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On becoming 18

Written on a train to Utrecht and on platform 15 waiting for the train to Eindhoven (where old people were staring at me because I did not have anything to write on so I used my leg.)

(Blurry picture taken after a school Christmas thing. I just really love this dress so...)

Like many things in life; falling in love, going to high school, getting your first period, becoming 18 feels less poetic and more static. It's like the magic of getting older fades when you actually get older. Your child eyes become adult eyes. Birthday cakes and cool parties are being replaced with politics and acting your age. Kids at the door call you 'Miss' and school expect you to know what you want to be. The question: "Who do you wanna be when you get older?" becomes pressing because now you are older. Does that mean you are supposed to know? I don't think I ever want to know. I don't like defining myself. I like being everything: a girlfriend, a daughter, a Christian, a painter, writer, movie-maker (sorta), idea maker, mess. I never want to be only one of those things nor do I ever want to commit to one thing creatively. Isn't that the point of creativity? Just creating?
I don't think age should be an indicator of adulthood. Yes I'm almost 18 but inside I feel 2 and 5 and 13 and 16. Curious, angsty, rebellious, wondering. In a way when you age you don't lose your last age. When I'm18 I'm not just 18 but also 17, 16, 15 etc. Maybe when I turn 18 I become a bit more 17.
I guess I'll have to find out. 

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ISABEL VALENTINE 18, thinker, writer of many things, creator & student. I am a lover of late nights, but a hater of early mornings. I live for traveling and amazing moments. I try to shed positivity on this world with my words, which includes my blog and my videos. "DOT" is my virtual outlet. Welcome