Getting over some [stupid] stuff that I should've ages ago, and using images [of myself with Lychees]to convey that. Also I'm in the middle of making life-long-ish decisions, which is terrible for me since I can hardly pick out a restaurant when I go out with my friends, let alone decide what country I'm going to reside in. Only a couple of months left until I say goodbye to being 22. I'm trying to gauge where the 'fun' will come in, now that I've got my feet firmly planted in the twenties journey, but being that in most people's eyes I am still a kid, I ought not to complain. The condescend at this age is irritating, but I imagine it's a rite of passage. Albeit a very moronic rite of passage.
How does one decide to simply 'start living their dreams'. The longer I'm out of uni and in the workplace, the less I seem motivated to go out and do my own thing—without feeling like somewhat of a failure. Of course my rational mind denounces this notion, but it's a tiny inkling in the wee corners of my brain. Maybe next year I can travel like I said I would, learn to drive like I said I would, learn Italian fluently like I said I would, start cooking again like I said I would. Find me a new babe like I thought I could. Maybe admit defeat, admit that I can't hack it and move back home too? Maybe go live with my lunatic of a father who summons me to the land of Basel, or follow my mother back to Holland. Like I said, there are a lot of decisions to be made, so I'm doing what any person my age would do.
Hiding under my covers.