How to Survive (LGBTQ+)

The Days Last a Year and the Years Last a Day

My aunt says this frequently, and it's so true. 

Time is such a strange concept, I mean, I can remember days when I was 3-4, but ask me about what I ate last Wednesday and I can only guess. 

This part is more for a particular age, however. I've been an adult for only a short time, but it's fucking weird. With a snap of your fingers people treat you differently. You have a bit more merit, but you're still a kid. 

You're a baby adult, basically.

For example, I can legally sign contracts. When I pierced my nose, I didn't need a parent (which was weird). If things went wrong, my ass was on the line. Nobody else. 

If I break the law?

I'm in the adult's prison. And holy shit. I would probably die in there.

I could buy cigarettes (not to preach but please for the love of fuck, do not. Do not smoke. I've lost too many people to lung cancer and complications due to smoking.), get a tattoo, I got to vote, a shit ton. But the scary part is that nobody gives you a manual. There's no little 'Hey, you're an adult! Get your shit together!' book. 

If there was, I'd order a ton of copies.

It seems like everyone else is thriving, with cute little outfits and internships; with tattoos and artsy vacations. It's a mirage. Trust me. Everyone who's recently an adult feels like they're dying. We don't know what we're doing, we don't know, we don't know.

If you feel like time is just rushing by you, it's okay. We all feel that way. Take a deep breath. One foot in front of the other. You can do this. 

If you have an amiable relationship with your parents or another adultier adult, ask them. They can guide you. I ask my parents the most ridiculous questions. During an application I had to ask if asthma was considered a serious health concern (for those curious, it is). I don't understand taxes. Credit cards keep sending me stuff, and I DON'T WANT A CREDIT CARD. 

Time is so strange. I mean, I'm so so young. But I feel so weird, because I'm aging, and aging is such an odd thing. I'm probably done growing, I'm done with puberty (never got hot. Still salty about it.), and I'm in college.

College: a shit ton of fun until you have finals and realize how little you know.

For example: I only have four exams. Not bad, right? 

Except they're bad. So bad. I don't know what I'm doing, but I'll figure it out. I normally do well so I'll figure my shit out. 

Well, I have to go cram. Toodles.