Slow Dawn

I've always believed that age is an insignificant thing in comparison to every other aspect of a person. I never felt that one should be limited by ones age, but rather that we should act how old we feel, and do what we want.
Needless to say, my age has hindered me, and will continue to do so throughout my life, as with most people. But right now, thirty minutes from my eighteenth birthday, my 'underage' life is flashing before me; all ages ska shows, trying to buy cigarettes, more fake IDs than boyfriends, a myriad or rebellious phases.
I don't expect anything will change after twelve o' clock. I don't expect anything at all. But I can't cope with what the eighteenth birthday symbolizes. It represents a supposed adulthood, and suggests an alteration in ones lifestyle. Although it shouldn't bother me at all, I feel as if I am about to cross a barrier and I can never go back to a seemingly more innocent character. Yes, I am well are that I am far from innocent, but looking back on my past naivety etc., there is a child about to be left in that unconscious paradise lost called past.
An allegorical metamorphism is about to take place, whether I ignore it or not.

I should've been making the most of these last few days before I am legally an adult, reminicing, considering, dreaming. I wanted to be. Instead, I have been laying in bed for four days trying to distract myself from something that hardly exists.
To be completely honest, I'm shaken from this nameless unknown.
For as long as I can remember I've been so sentimental. That's what's getting to me, I suppose; knowing that this should be something and making it something.
Realizing this doesn't really solve the 'emotional hang up', nor does it alleviate me from all this anxiety.

I think what's bothering me the most is that I have taken my entire childhood for granted. I know everyone does. I know it can't be helped. I know everything looks better looking back. And I think I know I am being slightly dramatic. But I have the right to be.

I've been listening to the Fiona Apple cover of 'Across the Universe' on repeat through writing this. I keep trying to tell myself that "Nothing's gonna change my world", and I know nothing will noticeably change, but there are subtle changes about to leap out at me. They stir around so quietly I don't notice them, until one day I have a job, I have a car, I have a serious relationship, and Ford knows what other burdens.
I'm going to go outside, look at the stars, reminisce, and countdown til my life... I don't know what it's going to do, but I'm going to countdown to it.