more time speculation

A lot of the conversations I have with people that I feel like I want to continue get cut off by the car ride being over and me being dropped off. That thing I wanted to talk about that didn't get brought up until the very last minute because of the mundanities of polite conversation--it gets the short end of the trip. There's that choice of hovering awkwardly while the car idles at the curb or shutting the door and probably never having the chance at that same conversation again.

Today it was about my month. I've had this crazy April. I'm trying to trace my footsteps back, recall how I got to today but there are some blatantly empty spaces. What have I been doing for the past twenty seven days? Other than blogging, I mean.

The end of April also means my birthday is coming up. This only brings my crazy nostalgia issue into further magnification. I'm only sixteen and I'm clinging to my youth. I don't want these days to end. It's not fear about the future so much as a realization about the inevitability of my demise. I don't know if that's even it. On some levels, death is like, yeah, bring it on (only not immediately, of course). But, I'll just--*thinks*--miss this.

I'll miss being naive and cast off and stereotyped. I'll miss people saying I'm mature for my age (notice that no one says that about adults). I'll miss this moment of the future being this beautiful haze of possibility and mystery and the past being nothing but an unfocused jumble of mostly happy memories that I probably misremember due to the strangeness of my human mind.

In less than two weeks, I'll be the age that Edward is forever, the age at which Harry Potter defeated Voldemort (for good), the age that seems to be the final stretch of teenagerdom. These fictional happenings that I live my life by bring into sharp contrast how much or little I've done with these nearly seventeen orbits of the sun. What's my mark?

With the somewhat arbitrary symbol of a new year before me, it's time to straighten out some priorities. You know what that means? Every morning after breakfast, I will be working my novel out. And it will be fantastic.