Okay, so I look sixteen. Does it mean that, by definition, I must be childish and require caretaker speech? It seems so, as on numerous occasions I was accused of being (I make it: looking) too young and inexperienced to partake or even understand an adult conversation. No, it's not the same as being denied the right to purchase a can of bitter without an ID. Consider the disparity between premature and immature; there's a bloody chasm in there with yours truly inside, jumping up and down and pleading to be let out.. (Did I mention I came of age.. some time ago..?) Apparently, no one bothers to listen to my childlike little voice. Shame, because the lexis is outstanding.
Now imagine that the very same adult-looking humans who have recklessly called my behaviours childish (while looking at my boy-like countenance, so let's say they were excused) shortly after repeated the silly actions they had scoffed, making me confuzzled, to put it mildly. What am I supposed to make of all this? Maybe they simply envy me my youth with its follies and idealism, limitlessness of possibilities and motivisation.. Something tells me it's far more intricate. Luckily, I can't observe myself in their stead. Because if I could, I might understand. And what would I do then?
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