When people tell me there’s such thing as quarter-life crisis
all I hear is ticking clock. like a metronome without the music.
so static it becomes scary. so constant it becomes confusing.
But I also hear the distant screams of people on rollercoasters
getting on the ride while not knowing the path clearly
they thought they only see one loop, they end up facing dozens.
Now I’m hearing silence so loud inside the bedroom
I face updates from people inside the tiny screens
graduating, traveling, soft-launching
oversharing, working, living
and though I sometimes do the same
it feels like we no longer share the same universe
Do you hear that?
It’s the sound of your leaking tears
dripping and forming echoes
you wish other people don’t catch
Because isn’t being twenty-somethings are supposed to be fun
and reckless and free-spirited and dumb and everything else but
being still. stagnant. and stuck.
And again I hear the questions who built a tent in my head
Does end of day means midnight or 5 PM?
Why did my friends scroll Instagram when I’m talking?
Was that a date? Or was that just a meet-up?
Why don’t my parents ask where I’m going?
I still don’t know the answers
but I can hear new questions hammering
nails to mark their place inside my mind
And that is my phone. Ringing. People are calling.
Actually updating me not from IG stories.
Asking my opinions on things. Talking about future plans.
Wondering about could-bes. Laughing. Crying as if they’re
in a crisis. As if we’re in a crisis.
Because we actually are in one. Half of our twenties were wasted
and half of it is still ahead of us. Half of our twenties are in the past
and half of it starts to reveal itself. Perhaps we still have the last half
to make up every nonsense we did. And maybe one day,
we’re no longer the not quite enough soul.
we will become whole.
the piece was previously performed as a spoken word piece on instagram (this is the link) and will be performed again on a spoken word performance event.
