Good weather, G.O.O.D music.
25 Things To Do Before You Turn 25
1. Make peace with your parents. Whether you finally recognize that they actually have your best interests in mind or you forgive them for being flawed human beings, you can’t happily enter adulthood with that familial brand of resentment.
2. Kiss someone you think is out of your league; kiss models and med students and entrepreneurs with part-time lives in Dubai and don’t worry about if they’re going to call you afterward.
3. Minimize your passivity.
4. Work a service job to gain some understanding of how tipping works, how to keep your cool around assholes, how a few kind words can change someone’s day.
5. Recognize freedom as a 5:30 a.m. trip to the diner with a bunch of strangers you’ve just met.
6. Try not to beat yourself up over having obtained a ‘useless’ Bachelor’s Degree. Debt is hell, and things didn’t pan out quite like you expected, but you did get to go to college, and having a degree isn’t the worst thing in the world to have. We will figure this mess out, I think, probably; the point is you’re not worth less just because there hasn’t been an immediate pay off for going to school. Be patient, work with what you have, and remember that a lot of us are in this together.
7. If you’re employed in any capacity, open a savings account. You never know when you might be unemployed or in desperate need of getting away for a few days. Even $10 a week is $520 more a year than you would’ve had otherwise.
8. Make a habit of going outside, enjoying the light, relearning your friends, forgetting the internet.
9. Go on a 4-day, brunch-fueled bender.
10. Start a relationship with your crush by telling them that you want them. Directly. Like, look them in the face and say it to them. Say, I want you. I want to be with you.
11. Learn to say ‘no’ — to yourself. Don’t keep wearing high heels if you hate them; don’t keep smoking if you’re disgusted by the way you smell the morning after; stop wasting entire days on your couch if you’re going to complain about missing the sun.
12. Take time to revisit the places that made you who you are: the apartment you grew up in, your middle school, your hometown. These places may or may not be here forever; you definitely won’t be.
13. Find a hobby that makes being alone feel lovely and empowering and like something to look forward to.
14. Think you know yourself until you meet someone better than you.
15. Forget who you are, what your priorities are, and how a person should be.
16. Identify your fears and instead of letting them dictate your every move, find and talk to people who have overcome them. Don’t settle for experiencing .000002% of what the world has to offer because you’re afraid of getting on a plane.
17. Make a habit of cleaning up and letting go. Just because it fit at one point doesn’t mean you need to keep it forever — whether ‘it’ is your favorite pair of pants or your ex.
18. Stop hating yourself.
19. Go out and watch that movie, read that book, listen to that band you already lied about watching, reading, listening to.
20. Take advantage of health insurance while you have it.
21. Make a habit of telling people how you feel, whether it means writing a gushing fan-girl email to someone whose work you love or telling your boss why you deserve a raise.
22. Date someone who says, “I love you” first.
23. Leave the country under the premise of “finding yourself.” This will be unsuccessful. Places do not change people. Instead, do a lot of solo drinking, read a lot of books, have sex in dirty hostels, and come home when you start to miss it.
24. Suck it up and buy a Macbook Pro.
25. Quit that job that’s making you miserable, end the relationship that makes you act like a lunatic, lose the friend whose sole purpose in life is making you feel like you’re perpetually on the verge of vomiting. You’re young, you’re resilient, there are other jobs and relationships and friends if you’re patient and open.
The sky is a blanket of bright-blue, and a shadow cast from a pavement-planted tree offers up the only shade for sale. The red door of No.6 over the way serves up some colour against the grey brickwork on repeat, and a black Ford Focus sits silently outside as the only car within view.
Before long a black-and-white Volkswagen parks up beneath my window, and I sit upwards to watch the driver hands over a small, transparent baggie to the passenger, sporting a stark white hoodie emblazoned with the colours of the Jamaican flag. They sit and exchange notes before pulling away again. I think briefly about how much better my day could have been with weed before I shake the thought out. I’ve done nothing all day as it is and I’ve still not traded my pyjamas for something more substantial. I’d be batting for a minus with a smoke to hand.
phew guys calm down.
Like anyone has a crush on me…
Wow, National Crush Day. Now I’ve heard it all.
Sleep away the day.
The front door slams shut.
Outside the sun silently breaks out hot over a thousand rooftops as
the dull thud of tyres roll in and out over dry, uneven roads,
all crispness sucked away by window you closed.
Inside, the sheets are warmer, and there’s no rush,
nothing going on.
The letterbox rings through the house but it’s never yours.
Sleep away the day.
The sun carves out more of the room with time,
so you turn inward to avoid it, pull the covers over your head.
People pass in the street leaving behind slices of conversation,
sentences you want to hear complete,
see the mouth they sprang from.
But the sheets are too warm, too comfortable.
You kick them away and they find you again.
You turn to the phone and nobodies there.
There’s no rush.
Sleep away the day.
There’s still time to avoid a write-off, another wasted day to mark down,
Enough youth in the day to achieve something, put your name on
And if not, well.
There’s always the night.
You almost slept away the day.
You felt it sit like bad food in your stomach,
potential seeping through your pores and into the mattress.
You woke up and wrote this instead.
Shook the sheets off of your shoulders,
tried getting something down.
But in your head it sounded better.
And you’re getting distracted by words from years ago.
Bad, but honest.
You scroll through images and words, images and words, words and images,
Nothing going in. Nothing coming out.
I should have slept away the day.
i sat down to write over fourty minutes ago before falling victim to Facebook, flicking absently through old photos with a glazed expression plastered on my face. Years passing by in minutes. People disappearing with a click. I’m closing in on two hours.