Open Letter To The Makers of the Seventeen Year Old Universe

Dear Makers of the Seventeen Year Old Universe,

I have differences between I, the vortex bending seventeen year old I am currently, and the mammoth of a sixteen year old I was some 30 days ago.

The differences range between the smooth curve of a 6 and the rather straight and prestige sight of a 7. The elite shape of this figure stems from the way it presses out, pressure, responsibility and emotional acne.The curvy 6 is rather an anxious droop worry about the way it can roll to avoid visual acne, fit in, and wants that little extra part to become the 18 it wants to be.

The morphing from the 6 to the 7 is quite a drain. It comes in different components, each being hit with the idea of ponder, of what will be. Each worry is a product of this infinitely confusing thing called The Future.

You see, The Future is a mystical place, like a weather forecast you can control. Everything you do today, how you test, volunteer and resumé has the ability to change this forecast. Do it incorrectly and boom boom bam, rain, lighting and you are homeless! Squeeze out those 99% averages for the sexiest sunshine you will ever see. (No pressure by the way!)

The product of the weather in the future is the weather of today. And today’s weather is ambivalent.

Instantly, without a pause to breathe or be babied as the typical teenager is used to suddenly- there are these things that people want from me. I will call these Expectations. No weather metaphor needed.

Now Expectations have always been to be good and to compete with others to avoid being the less good, and if you are particularly passioned, the best.  And in the teenage and high school world being good means avoiding being a nerd, partying and being the absolute coolest kid with the most Facebook likes. But suddenly the Expectations come from more than parents or teachers, rather yourself.

Because everyone is feeling like this, it feels as though the high school environment has changed. Becoming a place where this paradigm of thought its own virtue.

We are now morphing into becoming the infinite controller of the Weather Forecast. Something I and you and we are all not used to before as meek 16 year olds. This introduces this awesome thing called panic. Panic is everywhere. All my friends have it, it mixes and blends with competition, who will get the biggest scholarship, the best university, become the smartest, volunteer the hardest- be guaranteed the most successful life.

High school cliques are dissipating and people are trying to plan ahead. I like that the competition that used to be focused on being the most popular is shifted into the competition of who can learn to be the best student in the shortest amount of time. In a way, people are coming together, becoming friends to work through the pressure.

Maybe everyone experiences this shift, but I feel like the seventeen year old universe makers are playing their puppet hands a little harder than typically.  The output of information, sheer population growth and influence of social media, it is easier than ever now to flaunt the best parts of ourselves and always be slightly inadequate on the inside.

Maybe it is due to the change or so-called maturity, or so-called perception evolution, but I think it is the product of thought germs. The thought germ that is prominent on my seventeen year old universe is that our bodies must obey and be as fast-paced as constantly successful as our peers, who are struggling just as much as us.

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