As kids, we would laugh.
None of us thought life was going to move this fast.
None of us thought growing up was going to feel this bad.
Death. Heartbreak. Responsibility. Mortgages. Bills. Dullness. Boredness. Rutness.
The definition of adulthood? Who knows. Who cares.
But this is what happens…
When you reach a certain age. Playtime is over. Real life begins.
Tomorrow I walk across the stage. And graduate college.
One chapter ends. The next begins.
But not for me. Never for me.
I don’t want to put the book down. And grow up.
I want to remain a kid. Forever.
Not in body. But in spirit.
Most adults walk around with veins full of fear. I’ve seen them. You’ve seen them.
Why would you ever want to be them?
But that’s the funny thing about life…
No one does.
Yet somehow we all do.
As you grow older, you’re expected to die inside.
Trade laughter and adventure for certainty and safety.
And conform. And lose ambition. And give up dreams. And settle. And forget about the little kid you once were. And decay.
Get a regular job. Do regular shit. Live a regular life.
I end this chapter with the same ambition, the same relentless drive, the same gusto I had when I first began. If not more.
Here’s what I wrote in my high school yearbook in 2011.
These words are as true today as they were back then.
I still got my eyes on the stars. I still got my feet on the ground. I still believe.
And that’ll never change.
Not in twenty years. Not in forty years. Not in sixty years. Not ever.
How can I be so sure?
Cause I got the juice.
See y’all in 15… years that is!
“I’d rather die enormous than live dormant. That’s how I’m on it. 9 to 5 is how you survive. I’m not trying to survive. I’m trying to push it to the limit. And love it a lot. – Jay Z