time running out scares me.
ironic, because i’m really intensely good at procrastinating- or maybe because of it? i don’t know. growing up makes me feel like i’m running out of time- which i am, but not in a “lol i’m going to die soon” way, more in a… “i’m only seventeen once and that’s not gonna last forever” way.
i’m constantly thinking about doing things that i’ll remember, things that’ll bookmark this age, this time, this chapter in my life. and i know it sounds sappy, but stay with me.
every single day is such a mindblowing blur. whether it’s my every day schedule or even if i’m doing something slightly different- the end line is, i’ll forget it in time. and i’m okay with that. i kind of have to be.
and then there are the days when i feel really, really down because of this exact thing- like right now. my birthday is in two months and i’m going to be 18 and i). excuse me how does one officially adult and ii). nimika doth protest too much.
i read a lot of books. i’m kind of obsessed with them. (*she says on her book blog*.) so, when i’m constantly reading about these people my age going out there, doing things, learning stuff, falling in love, having a great time (*cough* or being tortured to death, tbh *cough*)- i feel like i’m just existing.
i’m not saying i want to fight monsters or go on a random ass mission to save the world- not that i’d complain but i’ll trip over air and fall on my own sword so there’s that- but i’d… i don’t know, i’d like to remember.
because on days like these, i can scroll down my gallery and look at all these pictures: a random close up shot of my coffee or breakfast, loads of pictures of my friends and me in the backseat of a car, making ridiculous faces; pictures of sunsets and my shoes or school trips or trolley rides in grocery stores; nightovers, behind the scenes bookstagrams, pizzas.
hell, just me reading some of my older blog posts where i’m ranting talking about school, studies, music, good days, concerts, “existential” crisis (i’m not even kidding, i got a bit… emotional… one day and wrote a whole post questioning how the fuck we’re alive in a time where bread exists. i refuse to acknowledge its existence).
the key word here is: documentation. i’m obsessed with documentation. because, yeah, it makes me feel more concrete when i look back at all these memories. even if i’m just going to keep growing up against my wishes (rude) and even if time keeps running out (the nerve), at least i know that some memories will be preserved.
and i want to keep on doing this. when i go off to college, the new city or my room or the new people and whatever glamorous/ugly details i have to share: i want them safe.
i know our generation is accused of being obsessed with documentation and i don’t know if it’s healthy or not but it does make me feel better knowing that the highlights of my life are with me even when i’m moving forward.
i was watching videos of tyler joseph (one of my favorite singers and songwriters) back when he was 18 or 19, making music in his basement with his friends. the videos looked liked they were being filmed on a potato and he looked like a tiny, adorable bean- but you get how goddamn important those videos must be? because a decade later, it was what he did back then that made him what he is now. and that part of his life is also documented.
then there is christine riccio- she was one of the first booktubers- and she made videos when she was in college, ranting about books quietly in her bedroom, making silly skits with her roommates, vlogging about classes and i want that. i want that because it’s intensely comforting to know that my life until now isn’t just made up of events that happened and then were forgotten but also of times that are remembered and alive, even if it’s just in a picture, a video or a diary entry.
even now, i don’t think i’m describing this well. it’s something like this: all the videos i make, pictures i take, blog posts i write (about my life or bread or books)- all of these things make up a security blanket for me to fall back on. something that reassures me that ‘hey, remember when you did this?’ isn’t completely lost.
all right, i’m going to stop ranting now but there is one last thing that i just realized: i think i always get “time-paranoid” whenever my birthday is near because i did an almost same “freaking out about time” post last year just a couple of days from now where i basically freaked out about turning 17. it’s called I’m Almost Not Sixteen and i almost don’t really want any of you to read it because i’m so. cringey. but here’s a real fun screenshot from that post:
i’m happy to announce that i haven’t changed one (1) bit, except the pajamas i’m wearing right now have those “zzz” verbalized snoring noises on them.
i’m gonna go.
if you got this far, thank you.