…that teenage angst never dies.
I don’t even feel like it dulls or gets buried. It’s like, you get better at pretending it’s not there. But it doesn’t go away.
This, I think, is something special and wonderful, and if you’re aware of it, you’re more alive than those people who convince themselves that it’s gone forever. We all have this unruly beast inside of us, making rude jokes and saying awkward things, and just lashing out at everyone and everything. Some people make it shut the fuck up, and some people don’t. But we should all honor it, you know? Instead of suppressing it under a layer of responsibility and (maybe) booze or just life in general, and then letting it peek out when we’re in our 40s and suddenly want to drive a convertible or whatever fucking cliche is gender/sexuality/age appropriate, what about just listening to that voice inside of us that has a shitty work ethic and just wants to never sell out? And who has all these impossibly wonderful and unrealistic visions of what being an adult would be like, as if just aging out of your parents’ house solves everything, and now you’re free. But what if you really are?