Before I get started, allow me to just give a quick shoutout to anyone who is celebrating 14th July, or in most English-speaking countries Bastille Day, today — JOYEUX 14 JUILLET!!
I think it’s fair to say that a lot of people see things in a different light to one another: that’s natural, and it’s human. However, it’s especially true when considering how teenagers see the world, compared to most adults.
Before I get too into this, let me just clarify: I am in no means saying teenagers’ perseptions of the world are wrong; they are just different, in most cases, to those of adults.
The future is scary — no, scrap that: it’s terrifying. Who can say where any of us will be in 5, 10, 20 years time? Who knows what life has in store for us, what we’re headed for, where we’ll be and what we’ll be doing. But maybe it’s just not worth thinking about. Maybe it’s better if we forget that, throw it to one side, and focus on the now.
I want to live out my melodramatic cliché of a teenage life. I want the heartbreak, the friendships, the betrayals and backstabbing, the drama, the music — I want that. I want my melodramatic cliché, because this is the only chance I’ll get to experience it. And in the moment, I’ll want it to end, to stop, to be gone and to never come back; but looking at it as a whole, I want my cliché, because I want nothing else but to experience life.
Things change when you’re an adult: there are bills to pay, jobs to do, things that can’t be reversed, can’t be undone. At least in my teen-bubble, nothing will ruin me. There is nothing that can touch me, because I’m head-first in a world of melodrama, of temporary hoplessness, fragile perfections that crak, like frosting, at the slightest breath of wind, ahead of a storm, all contained in a bubble. I’m trapped in a whirlwind, uncontrollably spinning like a scrap of paper in a bubble that I can neither control nor break, but choose to merely exist within, experiencing what it throws at me because I have no choice but to do so.
There’s something attractive about not being in the ‘real world’, about retreating into a world of teenage drama, of crushes and heartbreak, of finding yourself, all the while surrounded by teenage melodrama, cliché, and unstable hierarchy. There’s nothing holding you to reality, because reality doesn’t exist: instead, it is replaced by a world of fantasy, which everyone trapped within it knows has to end sooner than anyone would like. But we enjoy it, for now, because now is all we have, and nobody knows whether tomorrow will roll around, the sun will rise up and our eyes will open to see something they’ve never seen before. Nobody knows when our bubble will burst, but we know one thing, and one thing alone: when it does, that’s it — we can’t go back.
And yet, somehow, these bubbles interconnect with the world which we are so desperately and yet so passively trying to avoid. It’s like they’re within the world, themselves captured within the limitations of the planet, whilst they in turn trap their teenage inhabitants. It’s bizarre, but beautiful; crazy, but tremendous; scary, but true.
And so, for now, my teenage-life melodramatic crisis will continue on, because I’m too scared of what will happen when it’s over.