After sitting at my desk like a robot trying to read Ulysses, I decided to have a break and read some “young adult” books. (I'm hoping it's still acceptable to read them now I'm twenty without seeming like a creep chasing after their fifteen year old youth and willing it to come back...) I’m not though - after reading them I felt filled with relief that I’m twenty now, I can go to bed after 4am without hurriedly turning off my lamp every time I hear my mum get up and I can say 'fuck' and not get in trouble. (Not in front of her, obviously (I'm not that badass), but through the medium of the internet it's acceptable.) I also don’t miss being all angsty and door slamming all the time. I remember after having an argument I would go to my room and slam my door, but it would never have the desired effect as there would be a gust of air that sort of built up mid-swing and then softened the blow, so instead of a massive, rebellious *SLAM!*, it would be more of a *swiiiish, quiet click*. Until, one beautiful day, I discovered that if my window was open, my door would just fly at the frame and smash into it with that satisfying noise I had been waiting my whole life for. Every time after that, when I was angry, I would just storm up to my room, open my window, and slam the door. It was effort, but totally worth it.
All this thinking about teenagers (again, not creepy...) made me wonder what it would be like if I ever had my own children and I decided that, instead of having to go through the horrendous ordeal of childbirth and consequently end up despising the child for the rest of its life, I would just adopt one. Not adopt in a ‘come and live with me and I’ll be your new mum’ sort of way, more like when you adopt a dolphin or a tiger. It could send me annual pictures of being fed or playing with a ball with its owners or something. Then, when it’s twenty and awesome, it can come and live with me. Just as long as I didn’t have to tell it all the bad things about the world and ward it off drugs and the likes. I don’t know how I’d properly explain the whole phenomena, I’ve never really been drawn to drugs - I’m crazy enough as it is without suddenly eating a mushroom, going for a wee and then pushing on my stomach and pretending I’m a plastic squeeze toy… Although once, I got in the bath with my socks on and, for at least five minutes, I had literally no idea what was going on or why I felt so surreal when I was doing something so immensely mundane as bathing. I imagine that is what it feels like to be on hard drugs.