in my early age of aching joints and tired eyes, i’ve already lost my sense of adventure. though, i believe i lost it long before.

my sisters and i were discussing their adventures (travelling, piercings, etc.) and the only thing i could think of that was something “daring” for me was getting the cartilage on my ear pierced — and that was in grade nine. i haven’t even ventured outside of the province i live in for years on end.

today is my twenty-first birthday and i feel as though i really haven’t had a life. i’ve been so consumed with playing everything safe and doing the right thing that i have never experienced genuine fear or excitement. and the fact that the only time i ever come close to these feelings is when i’m watching a movie or a television show is pretty damn pathetic.

sometimes it’s the little things, too, that count. i am such a plain jane that it is starting to eat away at any sort of unique, vivid personality that might be concealed beneath my dull exterior. i don’t paint my nails (rather, i bite them), i don’t dye my hair (and the rare times i attempt to i just leave it to become a two-toned monstrosity), and i don’t like going out and meeting new people (i’m constantly nervous about what people think about me). these little things add up to one big, dull person.

and even during times like these, when i want to make a change in my life, i know i will probably never do anything about it. mostly because i’m afraid that such a change will completely disrupt the continuity and routine in my life that i’ve become so comfortable with.