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At the very end of my toddler years and the start of my adolescence, I longed the day I was to be introduced to my teenage years. I was ecstatic about the privilege of babysitting, entring high school, and just saying that I am a teen. It meant the world to me at that time. Now, not so much.
I'm a year past my thirteenth birthday and I still haven't felt that euphoric feeling my dreams so gracefully showcased to me. A year in and I'm still waiting for freedom and privilege that accompanies.
Don't you know I'm a very impatient person.
At the ripe age of a dozen, I was considred extraordinary. Everything I did was speicial since no other my age was able to achieve such a task. Now, I'm one more than a dozen and completely average. There is nothing I do that another my age HASN'T done. How the tables of my fate turned. I lost my specialty in life and I'm slowly losing trying in life any more. What's the point of waiting for a time to be extraordinary again? Don't you know I'm impatient.
I'm two years before thirteen and I'm being told to find something to be good at. I was good at everythng but I had to pick one to be special. I did something out the blue and procrastinated on that. If only I had known that I'm not the only one who's impatient. Don't you know the world is impatient.
I'm thirteen and I haven't babysat, gotten into high school, and said I'm a teen. I'm thirteen and I want to be fresh out of my toddler years and into my adolescence. I'm solemn in everything I do because there is nothing unual about it. It would mean the world to me if I could go back in time and fix this.
Didn't you know I'd be patient if you had told me the consequences?
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