you are old, i am not.

and it starts sometime around the age of twenty-four
where at least that's when you lose yourself for a minute or two
as you stand under the guidelines you explore
and the world plays some song about figuring it all out for a while
and the choices below are the melancholy soundcheck to the life you compile


Okay so a lot like love, my ducks seem to be aligning in a row. (movie reference)
I've got the nine to five. (call me Jolene if you wish)
I'm ticking the boxes of inevitably and fatally growing up.
Sure, it's a slow process, tiring at times and downright harsh but there is something so rewarding ending your work day knowing you have accomplished something.
That something could just be getting through the day with a hangover while answering calls with a chirpy charismatic pseudo voice. 
Nonetheless it's getting ticked. 

Now... the trick is to see if I can stick long enough in this life they call 'normal'.
According to my grandpa, who called me a foolish silly girl. Yes he said both foolish and silly in one breathe. His response to my epiphany to go volunteer in some (ANY!) Southern African country (besides my own). He may have mentioned a non-politically correct term or two with regards to who I want to "work" for. He is small-minded, of the worst kind. I guess where I'm going with this is that although I may be adapting to the monthly income job, I won't lose sight of the bigger picture I paint myself in. It's a means to an end. No, not really an end, more the opposite. A means to the beginning of my abnormal life longed to live. 
Biting the bullet. What a ridiculous idiom! Why position yourself in the firing line? Yes, okay maybe the shooter is an unforeseen opponent - then yes, bite that bloody bullet! Truth be told, I have not acquired that gunmetal taste. I would much rather use my advanced reflexes and dodge that thing! Basically, I've been dodging so much in my life I have developed a rather derivative robotic dance. It's not the kind of dance that wins "So you think you can Dance" or the "X Factor". It's the dance that people stop and stare in shock and horror. The realization that I will forever dance alone has hit home. I need new moves. 

While I learn this new dance, bullets are hitting me. Basically doing "the worm" right now I've been hit so many times. With patience, humility and passion I'm veering from my solo. The music is changing with or without me, and I'm all for new music. Along with these bullet holes come new experiences. With new experiences, my pallet grows in colors and tastes. Soon I will be biting the bullet and reversing its path of destruction. If I can march forward instead of sway sideways, I'll get to whatever is holding the gun. I'll have the know how, the perseverance and the resolution to stop the gun fire. Basically, I'll have the ability to make "World Peace". Then I'll have the 'means' to go volunteer in ALL the Southern African countries. So, Take that grandpa! 

You have to learn to breathe

Take it in stride

Be not the one to thieve

All that is his pride