12 vs 17

Driven by a tweet I found earlier today, I decide to write this post. That, and the fact that I still have no interest whatsoever on doing my history homework.

Sorry not sorry.

Well anyway. The tweet says the difference between a 12 year old me vs 18 year old me. And while by no means I'm eighteen (it's next year) I think, why not. Let's see how different I've been throughout the year.

First case: Future.

I remember when I was 12 I was so sure about the world and my place on it and what I'd want to do. I was like, "Oh, I want to go to high school and take major in language, or perhaps social. Then I'd graduate and get into UNPAD, taking an anthropology major or perhaps literature. Then I'd become a famous writer and everyone will know my name!"

The (almost) seventeen year old me?

I scoffed. I sCOFFED when my mom told me my stepfather told her his opinion of me. He says, "She's the kind of person who is so sure of her own future. She has plans already and she knows exactly what she's going to do."

Meanwhile I just sit here like, Plx hewp.

I don't know what I'm doing with my LIFE! *dramatic hair rip off*

I don't even know what I want to be anymore! I don't even know whether I want to get into college/university anymore! I don't even fucking know what I'm going to eat tomorrow for breakfast and yOU EXPECT ME TO ALREADY HAVE PLANS TO EXECUTE FOR MY OWN FUTURE? oh my god please help don't that's too much like i can't

i

can't.

Second case: Friendship and Social Encounters.

The twelve year old me was still bruised from all the crap her elementary school classmates gave her so she sees people as a creature needs to be avoided as much as possible. I probably won't talk to you unless it's a matter of life and death.

The seventeen year old me has friends and acquaintances nearly everywhere she goes but only very few selected people she trust. BUT she's also the kind of a girl you'll find dancing and/or singing (probably both) in public places and pretend that she's actually in a music video (and she's the main artist). Sometimes it might be fun to hang around with her but most of the time you'll wish you never knew her (trust me I have trusted sources).

Third case: Self-perceiving

When I was twelve, people seem to think of me as a very confident, brave, and loud person. When in reality, I spent nearly my entire time wishing I was someone else; someone prettier, smarter, funnier, thinner, et cetera. So basically I cover up my own low self esteem behind a very loud (and rather annoying, actually) personality.

Me now:
Oh you think you're cooler than me? How cute.
Oh my gosh I'm so sorry if my opinion disturbs you.
Gurll my hair looks cute today.
What the fuck you mean my hair is a mess? Do you know how many HOURS I spent to make it look like THIS?
Hey I have a very beautiful pair of eyes!
Let me stare right into you until I shatter your innocent and naive soul and make it miserable like mine.
I'm brave. I'm brave. I can do this. It's just a movie.
hOLY CRAP IT'S NOT JUST A MOVIE PLEASE STOP IT I NEED MY SLEEP TONIGHT.
Hey do you think I look fat?
I'm actually curvy.
Jesus Christ what do you mean I'm thin I'm fat that's a fact.
I can make a good rhyme.
Poetry making? Ugh I'm so bad at this.
Why are you staring at me like that?
Do my friends ever talk about me when I'm not around?
Nah nothing to worry about I'm awesome.
OH SHIT PIMPLE! It ruins my entire perfect look!
I'm a duck.
What do you mean I can't be a duck?
Okay fine. I'm a unicorn duck.
UNIDUCK.

 Fourth case: Dealing with (annoying) People.

The twelve year old me would just dismiss them and looking at them disgustedly. Then I'd come to my mom to tell her everything about it. Except, well, you know, the person I'm having a problem with is my mom. I'll probably just sleep it off.

The (almost) seventeen year old me would just dismiss them and don't even bother to shot them a look. Then I'd come to my mom to tell her everything about it. Except, well, you know, she's the one who annoys me (or other way around). In that case, I'll probably just sleep it off.

Fifth case: Appetite.

The twelve year old me would like a pizza for dinner, please.

The seventeen year old me would like a pizza for dinner, please.

     As you can see, people change. Even me. When I was twelve, I was all like, "Jeez leave me alone! I know what I'm doing, I know what I'm gonna do with my life. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot be! I don't need your help!"

Then the almost seventeen year old me is just like, Hey how do you open a bottle cap?

It's amazing what five years can do. Back then I was so sure about what I want to be and how I will reach that goal, now I don't even know how to graduate from high school. When people asked me what major I'd want to take in university I used to say anthropology with certainty. Now I only say anthropology because that's more or less been  programmed automatically. I used to say I want to be a writer now I barely write a story worth reading (well, they're worth reading, but probably not worth published - who wants to read an erotica written by a seventeen year old anyway?).

I don't even know whether to applaud my 12 year old certainty or laugh at my 17 year old helplessness. Or mock my 12 year old point of view of how the world's should be and give the 17 year old me a pat on the back for the lazy, rather cynical view. What I know is that the world is a shitty place and only those who are willing to do anything to get what they want would own it. But at least both version of me know that.

But chill. It's okay to have no plan yet, I guess. I haven't even seventeen. I'm young and I have time. Probably. What's the point of going to university if in the end it's just a waste of money?

So relax. And learn how to pull off a goddamn fucking cap.