Wow, I’m eighteen now. I never imagined myself in this state. I sort of figured I’d be dead by now.
 
Eighteen brings with it very few advantages. I can now vote, and I can now go to jail. That’s about it.
 
 
Every year I hate my birthday more and more. This year, I think that my birthday has officially sunk below Halloween to become my least favourite day of the year. Birthdays for me have become a day where everyone else celebrates the fact that I’m moving farther and farther away from what I want. It’s depressing. I can’t stand it.
 
I can only imagine how depressed I’ll be next year, when I hit legal drinking age. Or worse, two years from now, when I leave the teenage years behind entirely. Ugh. I don’t even want to think about it.
 
 
 
The big thing is that I am now legally an adult.
 
Yesterday I was a child under the law. Today I’m an adult. Who the hell made that rule up? Surely the Conservatives. It’s always the Conservatives.
 
Well, fuck the law.
 
The way I see it, today is just the fifth anniversary of my thirteenth birthday. That was a good year.
 
I’m still a kid. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change.
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