I’m getting old

“They got the situation, they got me facin’
I can’t live a normal life, I was raised by the strip
So I gotta be down with the hood team
Too much television watchin’ got me chasin’ dreams
I’m an educated fool with money on my mind
Got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye
I’m a loc’ed out gangsta, set-trippin banger
And my homies is down, so don’t arouse my anger, fool
Death ain’t nuthin but a heart beat away
I’m livin life do-or-die-a, what can I say?
I’m twenty-three now, but will I live to see twenty-fow’?
The way things are goin’ I don’t know…“

I wish everyone knew how tempted I was to put these lyrics up as my Facebook status last week.

I feel exactly the same as I did last year. Where’s the personal growth? It’s bumming me out that I haven’t changed much. I’m not going to change my life overnight, or drop every bad habit I’ve developed over the years and start being this new Redford by tomorrow, but it would be nice if by 25 my life didn’t so closely resemble the one I’m living now. For the better of course.

And yes, it’s not as if I haven’t reached this epiphany before, and ideally, I should have thought like this 6 years ago, but there’s a weird sense of urgency that comes when people stare at you and go “wow, 24? Really?” Yeah. Fuck.