Nineteen Years Old

After dinner I walked to the field. It was an impromptu decision; I could hear Marcus asking Mum where was I going, and Mum answering in the negative.

I walked forth and back in the field, not thinking about anything. After a game of Dota in many weeks my eyes felt strained with the game's progress and its various movements. I wanted to look far into the horizon, to look at the Malaysian hills in the distance, and let them relax.

Some of the young kids and their parents eyed me curiously. In their minds, somehow an adolescent should be quite away from this place, where their kids rule.

I kept my pace, now trying to soothe the pain in my stomach. I did not realised until then, but I ate quite a big plate of rice just now. The amount of my consumption is not of great interest to me now; during younger days I used to boast or compete about this topic, regarding it as some kind of personal accomplishment if I can eat more than my nearest competitor. Now, I eat what I can, or what I feel I can, with no such thoughts.

Lifting my head, I saw the ever melancholic, yet romantic evening sun, shining its few last minutes of rays before finally settling for the night.

I thought of past evenings, and their usefulness. How many of them have passed in my nineteen years of life, and how many of them have I truly appreciated? This of course, leads to the question whether have I utilised life.

It is the inevitable that my peers and I are fast approaching adulthood, being 19 this year; there are already some who could not wait for it to truly happen. I accept that progress with hope, anxiety, a little occasional cynicism, and with a tinge of sadness.

People will no longer call me young and ignorant. Instead they expect maturity and competence, or promising signs of it. Although I feel young inside, the heart ever ready to play and jump and the mind devising ways to manifest, people don't see it that way any more. Going onto 20 next year will surely require some adjustments and tolerance.

This is my last year of real youth. People who have more than 2 decades of age, I consider them adults and hence, 'old' . Despite this fact, there is no reason to tear, no reason to lose spirit. Instead it should be bright and hopeful, ready to shine and enjoy transient life.

Saying goodbye to those years left behind is not going to be entirely pleasant, but this is life and it is a must. I will choose to accept and venture with all positivism. I kiss memories goodbye, tuck them securely into a treasure box and walked forward with a new one, for surely adulthood is filled with excitements and new discoveries!