21

Well, my friends, I have now turned 21. I’m both proud and scared of this fact. I mean, I’m proud that I’ve never been to jail. I’m living a positive lifestyle, I stay out of trouble, and my life has not gone down the drain so young. I remember going to school when I was little and talking to my friends about The Lion King and Pokemon cards. These days, all of my childhood friends are either in jail, dead, or they have kids now. Having children so young doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to abandon your hopes and dreams. But I usually see regret and a lot of struggle in raising these little fuckers.

I’m scared of getting older because I know there are some things I just can’t get away with due to my age. The main thing being is that you’re a legal adult already, so you can get in more trouble and be a target for criticism in this judgmental world. Especially when you fuck up trying to live a lifestyle most people are comfortable with. Try telling everybody you’re going to be president and see if they believe you. If you fail at life, you have a limited time to make up for it. Yes, age is just a number. And if you’re a fan of reality, sometimes it ain’t. Get on the ball.

I don’t celebrate my birthday. I don’t even celebrate Christmas. In my world, both events take place on the same day, so it’s more depressing than it is. I went to my uncle’s house to visit him for Christmas. Everybody was happy to see that I got bigger. I was unhappy to see that for the tenth year in a row, they had completely forgotten that it was my birthday.

“Where have you been these past three years?”

I have been living in California for two years and then I moved to a Mexican border town, Nuevo Laredo. I stayed there for almost a year doing research for a movie...

My uncle stops smiling.

Uncle: “Would you like a beer?”

Me: “No, thanks.”

He becomes even more straight-faced than before. Everybody else laughs. I’ve never been a beer drinker and I’ve recently stopped experimenting with smoking. Mexican men try to measure your masculinity by the amount of beers you drink. Writers try to determine how often you write by the amount of foam coffee cups you have lying around.

A few hours later, I walked into my cousin’s room. He’s watching The Book of Eli.

Blu-ray.

It looked like Mila Kunis was in the room, so I sat down next to her. The violence in the movie is cartoonish and the cinematography is superb. A couple of evil-doers try to rape Mila.

“So, how have you been?” asks my cousin.

“Good, good. I gotta use your bathroom.”

I exit the room, and once I’m out the room, I get offered coffee and donuts like 10 times. “No thanks” (10 times). I’ve already had 4 cups of Amaretto coffee and now I gotta piss. Real bad. Then I entered the bathroom. It’s squeaky-clean, just for us. I went back to my cousin’s room. Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman have joined the fun, too.

Aww shit.

The movie ends with Denzel reciting every verse in the Bible and old people writing down everything he says. Mila puts on a large jacket, sunglasses on, and walks down a road. All under the hot sun. << SPOILER ALERT

Sexy.

My dad, living in Mexico, calls me on my brother’s cell phone. He sounded tired.

“So you’re 21 now, huh? You’re getting older while I’m just getting younger. (YAWN) I’ll see if I can go there some time and we can hang out.”

Not gonna happen.

A few minutes later, I pissed like 3 more times. Then went home and continued working on my writing as usual.

My mom made a cake and it wasn’t for me. It was for Christmas. It was for Jesus. Honestly, I don’t give a shit for birthday presents, cakes, and all that. It’s just weird not being acknowledged enough on your birthday to get your own cake.

It doesn’t have to be a cake, either. Maybe a Rolex Presidential watch. That would be sweet.

Other than that, my body and mind feel great. I still can’t grow facial hair, not even a semi-mustache. My face is smooth like a newborn baby’s ass. Well, except for a few hairs sticking out my chin. I always shave those off. They’re useless.

I work out, as I mentioned in a previous post. Some time next month, I plan on adding the 6-round punching bag work out. Hitting the bag for 18 minutes is no joke. I feel like the result of working out with loud music (Jedi Mind Tricks take over the garage) is worth it. You feel very positive and happy. Boxing is one of the best ways to relax your mind and it helps me out in my writing.

21 looks like a cool age to be. Filmmakers, actors, singers, athletes are making it big and are becoming more popular at a younger age nowadays. I’m more impressed with athletes and filmmakers. Take this guy for example, Xavier Dolan. He’s 21 and has directed some flicks. As you can see in the interview, he’s a sharp guy and knows the craft of film.

Currently, the youngest person to have won the Nicholl Fellowship (biggest script competition in the world) is 21. Then you got David Rudisha and it gets even better.

I hope I can still be and feel this energetic, and be this amazing, when I become an old man. If it’s not meant to be, then I hope it’s because I died chasing tornadoes before I got the chance to age miserably.