Ides Of Youth

The song on the car radio sounds like freedom,and growing up is as abstractly bittersweet as nostalgia.Sitting in the backseat of the car,for once,I feel like I fit in like a piece in a puzzle.
It's not a march that we can co -ordinate,it's a whirlwind asking to be lost in.
And some of us have had to grow up before we knew how,and no matter how many and how much people tell you that it makes you better at ''coping with stuff"',it still sucks.So we carry that old-ish air about us like dead weights on our shoulders and pretend that we don't feel the pressure of it weighing down upon us.
It's only some moments that we own.Those that can't be taken away from us,when our youth can't be robbed of us despite having to act old.Can't be ruined because they are so completely ours.For a day,we get to be giddy and act all silly and be the youngest and silliest and wildest we can get.These are the moments that might make a montage in the final ensemble of flashbacks before death,if that really happens.Not just because they make you feel the most alive you can but also because they can transport you to a place noone and nothing can alter and you don't need a physical reality of .Some of us wander without being lost,finding a home in everything despite having no need to and some just forever longing for a home they won't find but feel the need for.If you identify with the longing kind,maybe,just maybe,home rests in these moments.