25 – I should really start adulting now

Ok, I just turned 25 years old like two weeks ago. That’s quarter of a century. Halfway to 50. That’s the moment when you realise, you’re closer to 30 than that sweet old 20, when you decided you should be an adult by now.

My birthday was really nice. I spent it at the seaside, on a vacation with my girlfriend. I received a ton of  great birthday wishes, phone calls, texts, everything was great, no complaints. But then when I had some time for myself, right before falling asleep (you know, those moments of self-reflect), I got really frightened by the thought that I haven’t achieved anything really worth mentioning in my life so far. Of course I graduated high school, got a college bachelor diploma,… But the best use I can get from those things is to have them as a surface, while I roll my joint, which gives me that numbing feeling of some kind of accomplishment. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m addicted to weed – although, that’s what an addicted person would claim – I still think, you can’t really get physically addicted to marijuana. I also ‘reward’ myself with a smoke only, when I do everything I meant to do that day. But more on that topic some other time.

All I did for myself and my future so far were some boring part time jobs, which brought me so little money and experience, that I’m ashamed to talk about them. I got a LOT of ideas and wishes what to do with my life. The problem is, I balance them on one side to “you’re too old, you’re never going to get good enough, a lot of people do that already” and on the other side to “I wanna be a tattoo artist, musician, designer, writer, blogger, vlogger, traveler, photographer, and wanna establish world peace”. There is a silver lining to all of this, I do know that I don’t want to get a regular 8 hour-a-day job, where I do something, that someone else told me I have to do. I want to do something preferably artistic, something where I can set my own schedule and something that makes me happy (sounds cliché, right?). I’d rather work 12 hours per day for something that I like, than 6-8 hours per day for something I don’t. I’m not saying that I’d be a picky bitch and resent all work. As a start, I’m willing to do a lot of different jobs, to get back on my own feet. All I mean is, that I am aware of my goals and I won’t stop quitting jobs and trying to make it on my own.

Wow ok, that went on for a little longer that I originally intended. I’ll be posting more of these from now on, as they also help me realise my own mistakes and shit I don’t do properly.




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