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vingt-trois

it’s difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when you grow up, troubling to find that you simply don’t remember when you stopped acting like a child and became an adult, your head no longer filled with naive dreams and whimsical hopes for the future. suddenly, you’re twenty three and half the year is spent for hours away from a home with people who aren’t your family, struggling through another few years of trying to beat the system and get the best out of it, and the other half is spent wondering when your family became strangers to you; their faces familiar but changing all the time, home never quite the same whenever you return after three months away. suddenly, you’re twenty three yet still waiting for your break, and you’re never going to be a ballet dancer or a fire fighter or a popstar with ten world tours. you’re twenty three and, in the space of a few minutes, you realise that some days you'll feel that you’re stucked in a dead end job that you might hate with all your heart, and there may not be a single thing you can do about it. your days could be long and hard and lonely; the days when you move out of the family home for good this time and forget to call your mother and father every week until those phone calls become a monthly, two-minute ‘sorry i’m in a rush i’m heading out the door i’ll talk to you again’ kind of thing. suddenly, you’ll forget why you wanted to be an adult all those years ago. you’ll dream of hide and seek and grazed knees, fresh faces and hopeful eyes. just remember to breathe in those moments. in. out. in. out. in. out until that’s the only thing you focus on. breathe." 

-banana

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