I just turned 21 and I feel like I am getting too old for certain things.
But I am not too old for words.
I like to string words together if for no other reason than because they sound pretty.
I am not too old for wine in paper cups and an unremembered night every once in a while.
I am not too old to believe in 11:11 or peter pan and to be wowed by the glitter of stars.
I am not too old to read books under my covers with a flashlight,
not too old to stare off into space and dream of the things yet to come.
I’m not too old to get out of here.
Next I am going to take off, write letters back home on paper napkins, make mistakes,
exchange a thousand awkward words with people I have never met, do things I have never done
on my own before.
I may fail miserably time after time…but even if I ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ up,
I will never ever give up.
But I am not too old for words.
I like to string words together if for no other reason than because they sound pretty.
I am not too old for wine in paper cups and an unremembered night every once in a while.
I am not too old to believe in 11:11 or peter pan and to be wowed by the glitter of stars.
I am not too old to read books under my covers with a flashlight,
not too old to stare off into space and dream of the things yet to come.
I’m not too old to get out of here.
Next I am going to take off, write letters back home on paper napkins, make mistakes,
exchange a thousand awkward words with people I have never met, do things I have never done
on my own before.
I may fail miserably time after time…but even if I ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ up,
I will never ever give up.
reblogged from bless-your-cotton-socks, edited then posted.
