All my friends are getting married...im just getting drunk.

Numbers have so much controll in my life, especially when it comes to age. I have this problem where i compare myself to people, not to their bodies or their cars, or whatever is important to others, but to their age. I still live at home, but so do my OLDER siblings, so i justify my still living here by telling myself its ok because they do. But then, on the other hand my friends have all started buying houses, which freaks me out so badly that i make myself depressed, im a first year uni student and they're setting their lives, its crazy!

I think it's uni that has really made me notice the expectations that come with age. In life people ask your age and assume things with it - looking at buying your own place? graduating this year? married? kids? Where at uni there are a lot of older students, and it some how makes me feel good because i am younger than them. I have a few older friends who in educational terms are years below me and i compare myself to them to make myself feel good about where i am in my degree. Its so stupid, their is no other word.

People have started assuming im 19-20 years old for some reason, so im running with it, im certain this is about the age that i really am, i somehow lost several years in my life...i believe i lost them in the soul crushing retail sector.

I dont understand where this age pressure comes from, i could understand it if it was about looks or similar due to advertising and the such. Its not just me either that feels it, ive had short discussions with a close friend and she feels it as well.

This.is.such.an.awkward.age!

I keep telling myself to look at life as if it's a time capsule.I keep telling myself don't miss the old times, because it's a waste of my time.

You were just a time capsule captured in my memory. A pot full of buttered corn, A night under the naked moon,But it's a new day. Move on..

Let us get Wilde.

The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.