25 AND SCARED

Sunday, July 16, 2017 Sicily, Italy


Here's the thing: I turned 25 today and I'm not gonna lie, I am pretty fucking scared.
It's crazy how time flies by from the moment you turn 18. 
One day you're a teenager and then the next you're an adult with responsibilities and stuff to think about.
You just can't party hard with your friends all night every night, I mean, yeah, you could, if you don't mind terrible headaches while at work, but reality is, at 25 life knocks on the door and say: "dude, time to get your shit together and act like a fucking grown up!"
This is pretty much what happened to me today.

As I'm writing this, it's still my birthday for the next forty minutes and honestly, I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I don't know about you but I hate birthdays. Wait, let me be clear, I hate my birthdays.
I hate being the centre of all the attention and now more than ever, like, I don't wanna be that girl in the room blowing up 25 candles with people singing songs and cheering and for what? Being 25? Being an adult? Getting older? Getting fatter thanks to the fourth piece of cake I just ate despite being on a strict diet?
No, thank you. I think I'll pass.

I don't wanna stand there, making up speeches, smiling, opening gifts I will most definitely hate (except that gift card for books my parents gave me? Seriously, thank you, parents!) and for what?
Why do I have to celebrate the fact that I was born when in reality I regret this every single day?
Hear me out, people: my life is not shiny. I am not happy, I'm struggling with my friends (who are all doing amazing things and where the hell am I?) I'm struggling with my job (which I have none) and I'm struggling with the numbers on the scale (which I have too many) staring at me every week, I can almost see them rolling their eyes at me like "told you she wouldn't be able to give up on pizza!"
What the hell is going on?
Most people are so happy to finally be adults because in most cases their teenage years sucked but mine were pretty fucking amazing and I want that back.

I don't have a degree that could land me the dream job because fifteen years studying English, ten years studying French and four struggling with Spanish verbs and all that being Italian just is not enough. Right. Because I need to go to Uni abroad and collect lots of numbers and experience and without that, I can't even pitch for some cool magazine. 

You see, I just want that sign that could change everything. 
I think I need the Universe to tell me it's going to be okay and that I will have a chance to do something for myself, to make my parents proud, to make me proud.
I'm tired of looking at the same old four walls that saw me growing up.
I need my life to start and I need it to start with a BOOM.
I want to go there and say to myself "you did it! You're pretty fucking amazing!"
I want to write my book and I want people to enjoy it. 
I want Publishers to be interested in my work and I need them to give me the chance I've been waiting for since I was a child making up stories to look cooler than the other kids.
And I can't wait anymore.
I'm tired of waiting and waiting and waiting.
I need things to happen.
Good things.
Marvellous things.
Extraordinary things.
For once.
For me.
Please.

Oh, yeah, Happy Birthday to me!

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