Today is my birthday. Today I'm turning sixteen.
Not even funny like a John Hugues' movie.
It's ridiculous.
Once was that period of my life, when every birthday I felt like they were stealing me something. (from my life, out of me, something I didn't have the time to develop, because of school and stuffs, didn't felt the autorisation, and yet they were stealing that from me)
Now, I don't care anymore.
Thought about this, recently: as I was, say, ten, thirteen years-old, I felt ashamed going to the adult department of my neighbourhood library. I felt watched. I was scared one would ask me questions. They did ask.
I could be there only for a stupid assigment. "It's for school?"
So, I felt ashamed, because it wasn't the case; when I said it was for school, they didn't stop talkin', even if I asked them to... when I said it wasn't, even if I had a fucking adult library card, they would try to redirect me to the child/young department, despite the highly probability that I was there knowing that the book I wanted was here too.
I thought if I didn't felt ashamed anymore, it was because I mentally improved, you know, with these psychological stuffs I have.
I understood it was wrong.
It's just I know that it won't seem so weird if now I did browse that fucking adult department. They won't bother me anymore.
One of the most interesting books I read as a 13 years-old was Centuries of Childhood (L’enfant et la vie familiale sous l’Ancien Régime) by Philippe Ariès.
I should feel ashamed speaking of that shit.
When you're a kid or a toddler, and show your emotions, it's a whimy caprice, and if you're an adolescent it's that you are in your crisis.
If you're a woman, they say you have your periods; if you're a man, that you're a fag.
They would like a law against emotion-showing, but they feel as well.
One day, they'll need to show their emotions, then I'll laugh at their faces.