eighteen years of age

Today is my eighteenth birthday. I've made it. I'm an adult, and yet, I still feel so much like a child. I want to frolic in parks, make excuses and get away with them. I want to be young and hopeful and regret nothing forever, and ever, and ever. Until this day, I've lived pretty carefully--- honest, I have. And now I have this uncontrollable urge to lash out and do something rash and vulgar, shocking! Well, I don't really. But if I did, and just so happened to get caught, I would have to suffer the consequences as an adult. And it wouldn't be fair, not at the least. I'm an older more experienced child that wants to venture the world and explore every wonder this majical universe has to offer. I want to travel and get fucked up in foreign countries hearing foreign languanes and accents and spend time with foreign strangers waiting to see what I offer in the form of amusement and friendship, and insight. I want to do so much with my lufe and I haven't the slightest hint of where to start or what to do! What shall I do? Just say "FUCK IT", leave to New York City and get discovered by some wondrous miracle man? How long will that take? Will it ever happen? What if it's just a cruel movie reel on repeat that's playing over and over again in my cluttered, hostile mind? I don't belong here. I need culture. I need inspiration. I need to let go of everything I hold close and dear, keep it in my heart, and know that everything I need is, and always will be there when I need comfort. I quench knowlege and art and I know that somewhere in the near future, I will be in the perfect place that will satisfy this ohh-so-desirable craving.