Nostalgia is a dirty word.

I've done it again. Got all nostalgic. Caught myself looking through old snaps, and that strange mix of happiness and sadness crept up on me. And that stench drifting in, what was it? Regret. Denial. Horror. A mixture of all three. Those days. Years ago. The happier times. Or at least seemingly so. I seemed to worry less back then, I seemed to smile more, I seemed to be happier, more carefree. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm miserable now, or unhappy with where my life is at at the moment. It's just, every so often, that little bittersweet feeling of nostalgia kicks in, and gets me to reminiscing of simpler times. My "younger and more vulnerable years" as described by Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby, were, to me, strangely some of my most daring and carefree. I guess it has something to do with age. 

At merely 14, the weight on my shoulders was less, light, easy to carry. I had less baggage, less experience of the world, less responsibility. I was naive, and thankful to be. The pressure was practically nonexistent. School was just somewhere to go to socialise with friends, the real work was yet to come. The real life was just around the corner. Experience of the big, bad world would be sooner than we expected. In the blink of an eye, we grew up. We aged overnight. Everything got serious, straight-laced, important. Those mid-term tests became exams, those spats with friends turned to unsettled feuds, those little jobs turned into big responsibilities. So, why now is everything different? As my teenage years are drawing rapidly to a close, (excuse me while I try not to dwell on this) why is it that I'm edgier than ever? 

The older we get, the more baggage we carry, and ultimately, the less willing we are to take risks. Why? Well I think I've figured it out. The older we are, the more we have to lose. At 19, I'm all too aware of what the big, bad world has in store, and sometimes, I'm not willing to take that risk, because there's just too much to stake. Even though I'm only young, there are certain things I'll hold on to tighter than ever, and not let go. It's also harder to say how you feel. Rejection, judgement and a thousand and one other factors come into play when you're in your latter teenage years. Those soul-destroying, stomach-plummeting moments we've experienced before, well, understandably we're reluctant to put ourselves in similar situations just in case the outcome matches up.

So, nostalgia really is a dirty word. It makes you bitter and confused and yet, at the same time, makes me want to get back to those days, those feelings of freedom. Throwing caution to the wind and risking everything you've got for something you want/need. Maybe it's time I did just that. For once, not concentrate on what's at stake, but what I've got go gain. Maybe if I play my cards right, it'll work out better than ever. 

Young, free and changeable: That is the question.

I'm a strong believer in the theory that people, despite what is said, can, and do, change. The old cliché is that, some people are destined to be the same selfish, back-stabbing, bitchy teens they always were. Young, free and reckless, yeah? Well, not always. People DO grow up, grow out of their "flaws" and realise their mistakes. I recently began exploring this sentiment, as it was relevant to something happening in my life. The question I raised with my closest friends was just that. Do you think people can change? And what was the answer I received? Yes. Of course they can. I would hate to think that there were people judging me on the mistakes I made in the past, as after all, they ARE in the past, not in the present. We all do stupid things we come to regret, and while some are more serious than others, I guess it's possible, no matter how much we like to think its untrue. 

We could all make potentially damaging mistakes in the heat of the moment, and would we really want our heads put on the chopping board for life, because of a Friday night's drunk antics, or a text you sent when you were pissed off, or the punch you threw in year nine over lunch? We all make mistakes and are, inevitably, all subject to prejudices. I truly do (and want to) believe that we can all learn from our mistakes, rather than repeat them over and over and over again. Maybe we shouldn't have to serve life-sentences for petty crimes, maybe we should be more forgiving, and maybe, just maybe, leopards really do change their spots. 

Young, free and legal: the perks of being 19.

I felt physically sick at the thought of turning nineteen. It was as if all of the hype surrounding turning 18 had vanished completely, and being one year older only meant one thing, the last stretch of the very much loved teenage years. However, six months later, I'm sort of coming round to the idea, there seem to be some perks after all.

Walking into a bar and flashing your ID with too much confidence, because you know fine well that the date and picture on the card are yours. 

Being the perfect age to distance yourself from school kids, but you still qualify as a 90's child. Meaning you don't feel ancient when you see that the Disney Channel is still showing re-runs of Fresh Prince of Bel Air, despite Will Smith not making an episode for sixteen years. 

Not worrying where or at what point you lost both your dignity and your phone last night, in between downing drinks and singing too loudly, because someone will be able to fill in the gaps, as soon as the photos are uploaded to Facebook.

Being 19, is, perhaps, a blessing in disguise. Sooner or later, the big 2-0 will be looming, and that will be a depressing year.