It's my Birthday tomorrow, I shall be 20 and instead of gleefully awaiting the day's arrival like I might have done in years past I am feeling introspective and perhaps weighing the event far too heavily.
If you were to ask me what my most treasured possession was I'd be able to answer you instantly. It is a large bound volume I received upon my 18th Birthday, within it are written the thoughts and a crochet of well spun advice of my Aunts and Uncles, my brothers and sisters and my parents.
Its pages bare testament to the love that I can always rely upon and provide guidance when I might need it. There is little doubt in my mind that this is an occasion warranting the employment of that guidance.
I'm to be 20, I've officially seen 2 decades of life and now it's time to stop treating it as a spectator sport.
So, is this another one of those lame "I don't know what to do with my life" posts you get on Livejournals the net over? No, because I more or less know exactly what I want to achieve.
I want to finish my study and read for the bar, I want to practice as a barrister in Hong Kong and embark upon an epic attempt to single handedly finance Apple HK's quarter by impulse buying a whole lot of geeky hardware.
I want to find a love of my own somewhere.
I want to wake up each morning knowing that I'm where I want to be. Happy with life.
Sure, a lot of people might say "He's a greedy bast, that lad" but what can I say? I have high expectations.
The problem, as always, is in actually achieving all that.
Nonetheless I've realised something, I've spent so long striving to create a stable platform to reach my goals, that I've neglected to think of what I might do now that said platform doesn't exist.
By stable platform I mean a flat in London. On my own. Independent and with all the paraphernalia of a relatively untethered existence. I've been at university almost 2 years and you know how 'independent' I've been over that period?
I spent my first six months living happily in the flat in Victoria, ultimately relying not only upon my parents but on my grandparents insofar as the flat was my grandmother's. I then spent the rest of that year being utterly suffocated by my grandmother.
When I finally move out of that flat I end up being right back at home again, living in some pseudo-suburban family environment which I can't pretend doesn't make my blood boil.
My counselor's spent so much time telling me that I'm trying to break free and I'm only just realizing that she's been right all along.
I can't 'grow' whilst I'm here. In 2 years I've achieved nothing of the independence I sought. University so far for me has just been 6th Form part 2, I've spent my whole time in the custody and effective care of someone irrespective of whether or not I wanted to.
I can't say this without sounding ungrateful but for fuck's sake I'm 20 and I'm currently living at home and commuting to University. That's perhaps one or two ladder rungs above living in your parent's basement.
Now with all this idiocy over my flat in London it almost looks as if I won't be moving out until next year. The past two weeks with my counselor being sick and unable to meet my appointments have been a fortnight when I've really needed someone to talk to and now I'll have to settle for another 4 week drought as the Easter Holidays begin on Friday.
If I manage to settle the lease on this apartment then I'll be a lot happier, but as it stands I don't even get to leave this frikkin' country to head to Hong Kong for easter so I shouldn't expect anything less than another kick in the stomach on that front too (I've noticed that they tend to come in pairs).
I guess I might as well just wait and see what the future brings.
Later
John
Posted by John Swaine at March 23, 2004 08:12 PM