Introduction: Old Enough (18)

Hello, world. My name is Romi Ezzo... and I am ready to meet the public.

If you do not know me yet, you surely will soon.

There are two things I like to do; not just two things, but you know what I mean. I love to write, and I love to think. Creating a blog with the broad purpose of writing down my thoughts and sharing them with everyone will allow me to do just that.

Through this blog, my goal is to engage people in conversation and analysis of the events and issues in everyday life. I hope to show examples of some reflective writing that don't only give people a point of view on a screen, but to also make people think critically about their own perspectives. Some people might learn something new, or even get inspired. In my case, after reading a few of my friend's blogposts, I can say that it has done a combination of both. Hence, the blogpost: My Crest of Consciousness.

Also, the idea of reading other perspectives (comments/responses) from other people already sounds intriguing! So, feel free to leave some feedback for me... down there.

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v

(My failed attempt of a "down arrow".)

Anyways, because I have nothing, I'm going to show you a piece that I wrote last summer (July 27th, 2011), dedicated to my sister who (at the time) was about to turn 18.

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Today's just an ordinary day… and tomorrow will be, as well. I'm still going to wake up groggier than a man hanging over from another good time. I'm still going to start my day by looking at a man in the mirror preceding a masterful throw of warm water on my face that is so refreshing, I don't even want to go back to bed. Before opening my door to beams of sunlight and head downstairs to my dining room table where a laptop awaits me with a cluster of emails, I indirectly think about how I'm going to prepare myself to the best of my ability for anything that comes across my path… and, of course, think to myself: "What a wonderful world!"

Sometimes, I think about my days of yore, and how long ago 'twas when I was young… or shall I say: younger. 'Twas a score ago when I had been wrought. Okay… I'm not that old, but I must say: I am older… older than I was before I reached a certain age.

When I was seventeen, it was a very good year. It was a very good year for small town girls… and soft summer nights; kind of like this year, and last year, and the one before. It will only be a matter of time when I start talking about when I was twenty-one, living below perfume scented girls whose legs open quicker than the bottle cap popping out of an effervescing Pepsi bottle. It'll only be a matter of time when I will start talking about effervescing champagne bottles.

Turning eighteen is a big deal to many people. In the U.S., you are finally given a taste of the freedom that a typical seventeen-year-old anticipates: marrying an asshole/bitch, divorcing an asshole/bitch, and suing an asshole/bitch. Okay… not exactly what most seventeen-year olds look forward to, but there are other things, too: joining the military, adopting a child, becoming a stripper. No? How about buying lottery tickets or paying taxes? Am I getting any closer? (Well, it's freedom, isn't it?)

In all seriousness, there is all of this freedom that everyone brags about once they turn eighteen. I used to look forward to being in charge of my own bank account, being able to vote, and having the eligibility to shop for porn. Of course, there are the people who completely take advantage of their liberties at this fine age by instilling "artistic" ink into their bodies, buy products bad for their health, and (literally) gamble away their life and end up in prison. However, with all these crazy age laws about what we can legally do, it creates all these ideas in our heads. It makes us think about all of the things we still can't do at eighteen. It makes us think about "aging" at an early age. It takes out all the fun of why people do the (then) illegal things in the first place. Seriously, do you know many middle-aged people or senior citizens who decide to pick up a cigarette and light it if they've never smoked anything in their life?

So… moral of the story: When making decisions as an independent person, live life dangerously while you can. Make life exciting, as life gets too boring eventually. (Coming from the wise and experienced words of a twenty-year-old who has lived out most of his life…)

Bless you all… whether you have sneezed or not.

References:

Papa Roach's "Forever"

Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World"

Frank Sinatra's "It Was a Good Year"