my impending R.I.P

march's my favourite month
the reason is dead obvious.
if you're still clueless,
you're prob not important enough for me to let you know anyway.
and yes, you can go kill yourself now.
the anguish of not knowing jane's bday can be such a devastating blow.

i'd sometimes buy up all the march/april magazine issues
for the special horoscope profile dedicated to aries or other silly things like that
just to entertain the notion
of having a collection of all my birthday month mags

but this time round...
the joyous arrival of march is tainted
by a slight sense of loss
and a more than healthy dose of panic.

aye, i'd soon be a longstanding member of The Twenties Club
and if my luck holds out, for a decade. at least.
the tombstone of adolescence beckons
never thought it would all end so soon.
i love being 19.
it has a nice ring to it... nineteen.
old enough to be treated like a young lady
teen enough to goof around and act spastic.

physically and emotionally, you don't feel any different from being 19
but somehow just cos you're 20
people view you in a vastly different light altogether.
they do and you know it.
it's as if they suddenly expect you to grow an extra muscle somewhere
maybe in the suprachiasmatic nucleus
containing all the sensible virtues possible
encompassing maturity/grace/wisdom
and the most horrific one, responsibility.

20
i hate the way it looks soo... complete.
still don't wanna grow up.

i'm twenty.
can't bring myself to say that.
it just sounds wrong.

one downside of hitting 20?
however slow you think your metabolism is right now,
trust me it's gonna get worse.
argh
'nuff said.