Legal
Hi, instead of another poem, I'm here to bring you an update.
Within the past few moments, I just turned eighteen years old. Woohooo!
I know what you must be wondering: What does this mean for underage voices? This project started as an experiment to encourage youth expression, something I was really excited about, but emerged as a completely different entity. This has become my public diary and the main way the world can access my writing (as well as other parts of me). But now that I'm "legal" am I still allowed to call my blog underage voices?
Hell yes.
I'm still underage. I can vote for who runs our country, but can't go out a buy myself a beer. Since I was fourteen I was allowed to be convicted as an adult for murder, but at eighteen I can't testify in open court for my own rights.
I might be no longer a minor, but there's no way I'm an adult. The world is still an enormous puzzle I'm only a small piece of. As a young person, I'm still underestimated or not even given a second glance at all. I talk and write loudly, but there are moments I know I haven't been heard at all.
So although the original purpose of the blog has transformed, the premise of it and my work hasn't.
My sloppy, wild, sentimental, underage voice, still needs a canvas. And it's going to be here until I enter a universe that doesn't give me something worth speaking out and about. Or the internet becomes obsolete.
Thanks for giving me both your eyes and ears. If people keep listening, I think one day I might finally be heard.
Stay Creative,
Ariel
Within the past few moments, I just turned eighteen years old. Woohooo!
I know what you must be wondering: What does this mean for underage voices? This project started as an experiment to encourage youth expression, something I was really excited about, but emerged as a completely different entity. This has become my public diary and the main way the world can access my writing (as well as other parts of me). But now that I'm "legal" am I still allowed to call my blog underage voices?
Hell yes.
I'm still underage. I can vote for who runs our country, but can't go out a buy myself a beer. Since I was fourteen I was allowed to be convicted as an adult for murder, but at eighteen I can't testify in open court for my own rights.
I might be no longer a minor, but there's no way I'm an adult. The world is still an enormous puzzle I'm only a small piece of. As a young person, I'm still underestimated or not even given a second glance at all. I talk and write loudly, but there are moments I know I haven't been heard at all.
So although the original purpose of the blog has transformed, the premise of it and my work hasn't.
My sloppy, wild, sentimental, underage voice, still needs a canvas. And it's going to be here until I enter a universe that doesn't give me something worth speaking out and about. Or the internet becomes obsolete.
Thanks for giving me both your eyes and ears. If people keep listening, I think one day I might finally be heard.
Stay Creative,
Ariel
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