It's so fucking WEIRD to think that I'm almost twenty. I mean, big deal, right? Most of my friends are past this milestone already. And twenty isn't anything important legally, I've got one more year to go before everything that WILL be legal IS legal for me to do.

But still. Twenty. 2-0. No more ones to start it with. It takes me so long to remember a new year on my checks and papers, how long will it take me to stop writing that 1 when the box asks me "age"?

And what does it really mean? Two decades? Seven thousand, three hundred sunrises, sunsets, give or take a few leap years? Thousands of books, hundreds of movies? Hundreds of thousands of songs?

How many friends? How many people know my name now? How many people have I made smile? Or cry? How many people have I loved, or loved me?

How many fears have I overcome? It doesn't feel like many. But I don't scream at bugs any more, and I enjoy thundrestorms. How many shooting stars have I seen? Or rainbows? More rainbows, for sure.

And how much do I still have ahead of me? How many kisses have I not given yet, stories haven't I written, jokes haven't I cracked? How many comments haven't I left on other people's journals yet? How many times will I vote, and will I ever be on the winning side? Will I ever be able to eat salmon again without getting sick? Or learn how to make sushi? Or really perfect the tree posture, or go to Europe, or try mushrooms, or grow a rosebush, or... I don't know.

So much to do. And really, twenty's a good age to be. Out of the teens, and all that angst and stuff with it. Not old, though. Life spans being what they are, I could be just a quarter through my life right now. (Knowing my family's medical history, I've got about a 50% chance of dying in my 60s. So it could be a third through. Still.) And I'm not even there yet, I've got-- what, seventeen days to go? Yeah.

July 19th. Seventeen days to go. I'm only going to be a teenager for a little over two more weeks. What should I do?! :3