Jonathan Rhys Myers - This Time

I didn't really know what to write about for the past few days until I received an e-mail today from my subscription of Daily Writing Tips... It gave a few "creative generator" things, and I decided to use the Imagination Prompt Generator. Anyway, the prompt I like the best is

How old would you be if you didn't know your real age?

I've just turned fifteen a couple of weeks ago... Sometimes - sometimes - I feel a lot older than my age... Maybe it's because of my friends. I mean, they're lovely people, but they're always asking me for things like tissue paper, water, and lip balm. I seem to be the only one who carries a bag... Better yet, I seem to be like the Dora the Explorer of my group, the one whose backpack contains everything. Also, my friends are always falling into problems which I don't seem to encounter very much... I find it easier to talk to people a lot older than me sometimes, although they probably mostly think of me as a little kid (although I am fifteen)...

It's a bit like Cassandra Mortmain in I Capture the Castle (I love that book; everyone should read it at least once in their lifetime). She was seventeen when the book begins, but you feel that she's a lot older. Then, enter Simon Cotton, who keeps thinking of her as a little kid (maybe because she's Rose's younger sister), when we the readers really know that she's mentally older than that.

Age is just a number to me. I don't know why the world gets so hyped about "Acting your age." I know for some people, it means "grow up! Get a life!". For me, it seems to condemn mentally mature people into the stereotype of brainless teenagers who joke about sex and condoms and girls and all that crap.

Anyway, I would age myself at about eighteen - the age where you're old enough to understand and to talk and function almost like an adult, and yet you have the random bursts of hyperactiveness and randomnity. But I'm short for my age, so maybe I will end up aging myself at fifteen anyway...

Gah.