Serial no. 4 What’s your Age

Serial no. 4 What’s your Age

“Some people call it a mid-life crisis. I call it, breaking free from the oppression of being young. Somewhere between the ages of 21 to 35, that is, when you shed the thoughts and ideas that were pressed into you for the first 21years of your life from teachers, parents and even some peers.

I tell ya, I was so happy to have a direction set for me when I was younger. I mean, how many people now say, ‘could you imagine if there was Facebook when I was a kid?’ None of us would have a reputation, ever. Again.

Being told how to talk, walk and dress. Led on the appropriate ways to act and present oneself, it is necessary. I’m not trying to say it isn’t, but there is an age where it’s all shed, and you become who you truly were meant to be. That’s when people begin saying, ‘oh you’ve changed. It’s a mid-life crisis. They don’t know who they are.’

No bitch, I know exactly who I am, I’ve just pulled my roots up through the thick of the dirt you buried me under.

So, let’s start at the beginning.

0 to 5

You have no choice. You poop where you’re told, you eat what you’ve given, and you move to where you are taken. Most of the time not by your own feet, sometimes on a leash even. It’s literally survival; eat-sleep-breathe-poop.

6 to 12

This is when oppression really begins. Your parents beat you and even some teachers (or at least in my day they did.) They beat the good, the bad and the ugly out of you until your only option left is to smile and nod. They crush your personal thoughts and pour it into the Jell-O mold of society to output another well-rounded worker bee that the system requires. I don’t blame them. It’s needed. As a parent, it’s your job to teach children right vs wrong (or at least what the parent believes is to be right vs wrong.)

As a teacher, it’s your job to teach the child their parents aren’t always right and that the school systems belief is king word (or at least that’s what the teachers pledge to explain.)

13 to 17

You’re a cat in heat, and it’s their job to tie you up in a closet until you turn 18 so you don’t get in trouble.

18 to 20

Congratulations, you’ve graduated high school and can officially say you know something about the world. But fear not young grasshopper- you don’t know shit! You’ll be lucky if you’re not still living at home which means you’re still abiding by your parents’ rules. More fortunate still if you have a job and are earning money of your own and if you survived your years from 13 to 17 without being grounded the full term, then possibly now you have a good group of friends.

They won’t last long.

Soon you will be attempting to rebel everything you have been taught thus far because the real world- sucks. It doesn’t just chew you up, it swallows you, it shits you out and vomits you up at the same time. So, give up, there’s no point before 21. No one will actually look at you as an adult. Go to sleep for those few years.

21 to 34

Time to wake up. Wake up your senses, your thoughts, your imaginations, your dreams. Actually, start to put plans in place to set up your life. But now you realize you don’t really know who you are. The ideals you were taught don’t make sense to your beliefs. Your own skin is feeling too tight, it feels alien.

It’s not you, and it takes a long, long time to dredge the old child out. Before the layers of lies and deceit put into you from mainstream education. You have to dig through layers of blame, anger, and anxiety. You being to see that family is actually forced friendships. Teachers hardly believe what they’re teaching and your peers? Mostly work at offices that mimic school to such an extent, they even have the same carnival days with the same falsified tickets to sell.

Now you might even start making your own mini you. Little people that you have to lie to and tell them what’s best for them when deep down, you know it’s now. Classic point- do as I say, not as I do.

That’s how deeply seeded these false ideals are planted in you. You teach them to mini you without realizing. Trying to correct mini you with a different pitch in your voice because you know its not you.

Then you suddenly realize you can spell meter or meter. It doesn’t matter, the only one it’ll influence, is you. Freedom becomes a state of mind rather than a Saturday morning with no alarm.

Anyways, hold my beer. It’s my turn to jump.”

“But Kori, you have no parachute!”

“It’s called breaking the mold, let me guess- you’re only 20!?”


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