18th Birthday Thoughts

I turned 18 a couple days ago. Last Saturday, the second of November 2024. It was a really good birthday. I went to Prescott with my family (my favorite town I've been to, even if it's a little freaky) and I got to climb my favorite rocks in the world out in the Prescott National Forest. It was fun, but I realized I've gotten really out of shape since the summer when I worked up there 'round the clock. Some of you dedicated readers may remember that arc. Anyway I would go rock climbing every single day over the summer, often multiple times per day. I was pretty good at it, being able to consistently scale difficult rocks that are significantly taller than me (I am like a lap dog, at a staggering five feet and one inch tall), and I was never sore afterward. I can tell I'm out of shape because I sucked at climbing on Saturday and I was sore for, like, two days afterward. Lame. I'll get fit again next summer, though. I guess. I don't put a lot of thought or effort into my physical health or appearance. I don't like that it can change so quickly.

I don't like my birthday. I've never liked it, even as a kid. It kind of just stresses me out. It's Cliché, but I really do get caught up in the "one year closer to death" idea. My mind and my body change so rapidly, constantly. I'm still young, still developing, and as a young animal all I've ever known is rapid, aggressive change.

I guess that's not true. That's all I know of myself. Which is difficult because I can never pinpoint a moment of change. I just wake up one day and even if I don't realize it I'm different than I was when I was born and when I was ten and when I was sixteen and a half and all the other times. But I guess some things stay the same, too. I've lived in the same desert suburb for my entire life. I've moved twice, after my parents got divorced. But it's been the kind of moving where you don't move away - I've always lived within a mile of the house I grew up in. And I've always been "depressed," I guess, and passively suicidal. (Which is kind of a stupid way for me to be when I'm so desperately afraid of death.) Other constants remain, as well ... I've never understood people, I've never been able to love someone in a normal way, and I've always been a furry.

I don't like that my mind and body will keep changing forever, constantly, rapidly, aggressively, until I die in what'll feel like about five minutes from now.

I do want a change of pace, though. In the greater scope of my life outside of my own body. I mentioned living in the same desert suburb since forever. I hate it here. I hate it so much. This time next year I'll be out of here for good. I can barely contain my excitement. I let the days pass quickly, carelessly, emptily, so that the next time I wake up I'll be in my new home far away from here.

I have my sights set on Ohio. I'm only applying to two colleges: University of Cincinnati and Northern Arizona University. Ucinci is my dream school as of right now. Their Communication Design program. Based on academic stats alone, I have a 98% chance of being accepted. However, I'm going to need significant scholarships and financial aid to be able to afford tuition, so I've been hard at work on what I hope is a decent design portfolio. (NAU is my backup. As an in-state applicant, based on my academics I'm guaranteed acceptance and a full-ride scholarship. But their design program sucks fat nuts and I'd end up studying accounting. Which is fine, I guess. But graphic design is my passion.)

I dream of what my life will be like in Ohio. If I make it there. My mother and grandmother will move with me, and I'll live with them near the University. We have family in Cincinnati already and my grandmother's current living situation isn't sustainable for her anymore since her stroke earlier this year. And we're all so fucking sick of the desert. So we're all ready to pack it up and get! The! Hell! Out of here!

I dream of autumn. I've never lived somewhere with autumn. Or spring. Or a real winter, for that matter!

I dream of a fresh start. I hate this town and it hates me right back. I can't wait to be somewhere new. I can't wait to know nobody. I can't wait to reconstruct myself.

I think I'm hopeful for the first time ever. And I'm excited for the future, which soon enough will be the present. I hope I make it there, to my new life that's waiting around a bend.

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Please, if you've read this far, please manifest that my plane doesn't explode when I fly alone for the first time this weekend. Lol. I haven't flown since I was a pre-teen and I'm very nervous about my plane exploding or crashing. Or what if 9/11 two happens. That would suck.

I'm flying to visit Cincinnati. I want to take a bath in the hotel when I get there, which I won't be able to do if my plane explodes and I die.

So please manifest for me. Or pray or whatever you do. It could be like a birthday present from you to me.

Thanks in adance,

D.F.