If This Were a Song

"But heroes only existed in comic books, and I guess that would've been alright if bad guys only did too..." -Dave, "Kick-Ass" (film)

I never post when my blog is updated anymore. Whoever reads, reads. Technically I've always felt pretty nonchalant about my views on here while still craving larger amounts of them, but I'm realizing that was because I wanted people to know me. Now they will just have to try on their own accord. My transition to adulthood has been an alarmingly graceful one. When writing about my present endeavors, I usually refer to myself in the third person. "Adult Andrea" did this or that, made plans to do this. Of course I'm aware that "Adult Andrea" is me. It's just weird seeing myself as being reliable for me. I'm accustomed to going above and beyond for others and rarely taking genuinely good care of myself. One thing about those tables, though, they always turn. I'm here for it. If I absolutely had to make a playlist for what I've been going through, it would have a fair amount of Pink, K. Michelle, Bobby Caldwell, Kelis, Kendrick, and random twerk music. Growing into myself, growing myself, what's the difference anymore? It's all good. It just doesn't always feel good, which is to be expected. No, I haven't made any groundbreaking new discoveries about myself other than I will always win. In some form or another. That isn't to be cocky or to say I've never taken/will take a loss, but I know that I appreciate everything I go through because all of it is going to make me a better form of self. If I had to pick the best feature of this time, I'd say it's that I don't do anything intentionally harmful. I leave people alone that I know I need to leave alone. I try (I promise to God I try so hard) to get a sufficient amount of sleep. I quit smoking. I make time to do the things I care about and love the people that love me. It's amazing how resentful you are of people enjoying life when yours isn't going so well. A lot of my recent past anger stemmed from the inability to love and nurture my own needs emotionally. Lashing out at people that cared for me just because they were capable of caring for me better than I could myself. I used to worry religiously about losing my mind. On the contrary, it's just been found or created rather. If this were a song, it'd be melancholy and somber. I feel the desperate need to try and fix the world or offer it something bigger than me and my good intentions. How? I mean, if I were to speak to one racist every day for a year, would it mend anything? Can I end gang violence? Help every homeless person I meet? I know these are all group efforts and are things that must be repaired gradually, yet I still find myself falling into a bottomless pit of pessimism every time I pick my phone up. The thing that is so devastatingly irritating about being this age is that the possibilities are endless but so are the limitations. I'm young enough to take chances, yet too old to throw caution to the wind because fucking up could mean spending the rest of my life repairing it. If this were a song, fuck, I don't even know what I'd call it.