last flowers.

so on wednesday i'll finally be an adult. eighteen years of age. i just realised what that means. it was always just a number, a gateway to freedom and decadence and recklessness and disorder and all that.





i'm slightly terrified. i really don't want to grow up. i have to wonder, when did i get so old? time scares me, the way its doesn't stop. relentlessly pushing forwards, no matter what. i don't want to grow old. i don't want the responsibility or the reality or the monotony. i kind of just want to run away.