There are over a billion people alive today between the ages of 18 and 30 and it is simply not possible that with such a wide base of individuals to pull from, the only stories worth telling, lives worth examining and issues worth discussing are the ones currently being airbrushed and mass-marketed around the globe.
We want you to help us create and compile a collection of pieces about you. We want to publish a book about your hardships, your joys, your pleasures and your pains; a book about what you are going through, what you have gone through, and how and where you are going.
So the topic was "Quarter-life crisis" They did not get specific at all so I wrote what first came to my mind yesterday morning sitting in bed in one of my "WTF am I gonna do with the rest of my life" moments. Let me know what ya think: P.S Please don't take it all literal. Many of it is deep rooted feelings I have at times that never surface further then the pages of my journal.
Ray thinks I’m being overdramatic when I tell him my mom is stifling my growth with all her ranting and raving. “I’m a grown ass woman!” I always say but he just shakes his head and laughs. Then he goes back to studying and forgets I am even there for another half an hour till I say something again. Damn, med students. I would talk to God about the fears and insecurities harboring my mind but for a dude that is supposed to be all so powerful, he sure sucks at answering calls. Screw God, I always think to myself after another night out with the girls. Who needs him or Ray, when after my fifth shot, my spirit is already lifted, I’m speaking in tongues and right before passing out I too can see the light. “AJ, your G.P.A is down. How do you ever expect to transfer with these kinds of grades?” My guidance counselor, Mr. Riggers asks me one day. He has the thickest eyebrows I have ever seen with these beady little eyes right underneath them. I want to tell him he’s on my “Screw You” list too but instead I bite my bottom lip, tapping my index finger on the armrest. I hate Wednesdays. Half the week has been wasted on me analyzing my life. Asking the questions that never get answered and attending the classes that I can’t seem to stay awake in. I want to talk to one of my friends but most of them are already on the verge of entering Corporate America. I will be there of course, to send Hallmark cards each year to each of them, when marking another special occasion in their wonderful lives: a new car, new apartment, wedding, first home and whatever else they feel merits another $3.50 of my hard earned money. Congratulations will be on the cover of each card since its easier then having to find a specific one. It will make me laugh when they send me back a Thank You card, considering most of them will be on the list anyway. Everyone says I will eventually find my own happiness and that it is okay to embrace the unknown. I want to tell them all they’ve been watching one too may Dr. Phil episodes. Instead I pick up his latest self-help book and even take the little questionnaires that are at the end of each chapter. So far, my assessment results have classified me as: irritable, having an unhealthy fear of failure and a bit spoiled. Damn straight, Baldy is on the list too. As of now, the “Screw You” List has 26 people on it. But just in case he ever decides to call me back, I wrote God in pencil.