The beauty of being young doesn't stem from irresponsibility or from looking the other way, turning the other cheek. The beauty doesn't come from carelessness but mindfulness. It comes from the appreciation of the random. It comes in dark, smokey rooms with your best friend. It comes on foggy, downtown streets at night. It comes through the sound of hipsters in drag wearing Lolita sunglasses playing sad surf music. It comes when the ceiling is lit up like a high school prom. The beauty is the 'being lose on the world' part, the 'liking everything' part, the whole 'world is my oyster' part.
I'm a UofA graduate with a pension for fictional characters like Lolita and Annie Hall. I can make a mean grilled cheese while speaking Italian. I want to use this space to chronicle my leap into adulthood.