It's funny about time. It moves so fast, and yet, we don't even feel it. We're just so shocked whenever we find the time to stop and think, whoa...how did we get here?

I had that opportunity to stop and think awhile ago when I was with my 11 year-old cousin, Michael (the same Doctor Love who informed me that it was unacceptable for a 20-year-old not to have a boyfriend yet). We were hanging out in front of Robinsons' Towers (where my sister's apartment is), waiting for the car. And he started asking me for advice on college, what course to pick, how to pick a course and such. Sure, it's still a long way off for him, but it's natural for him to be curious. After all, he was the only kid there with us, and I'm the one closest to his age, me who just got through college. And everyone around him was talking about careers, jobs and such.

And so I found myself talking, talking, talking there, telling him about college, giving suggestions and such. Trying to divert his brainwashed mind from the idea that you should focus your mind on a job that will make you a millionaire (it's just that I know he loves drawing, and he's pretty good at it, and it's so frustrating how his family is discouraging him from going into the arts because it isn't famous for producing big bucks).

I suddenly felt old.

Was it that long ago when I was the one asking the older folks for college advice, poring through college brochures and stuff, trying to figure out which way I wanted to go? And now, here I am, the one being asked for advice, the one actually giving advice, wanting my little cousin not to make the same mistakes I've made. And it felt surreal. I'm the youngest among us siblings, so it's not like I've had experience with little brothers or sisters. I wasn't even sure if I was in the position to give advice, if I was giving the right advice. If there even is a right advice for such a situation, or if it's different for each and every one.

And then, there's the difference between kids and, er, not-so-young people. It wasn't that long ago when I was one of those people who couldn't wait to grow up, do grown-up things, experience grown-up life. I hated being a kid, and seeing the rest do things I wasn't allowed to do yet. And now, I'm here so close to my 22nd birthday, and I look at my 11 year-old cousin, and I think about the other kids like him, or just a bit older than him.

I wonder, was I like them when I was that age? Was anyone my age like them when we were that age? Nowadays, it's not so uncommon to see a thirteen year-old going out every night with friends, dating, getting drunk, hell, getting laid. And I can't remember if anyone in my batch was already into those kinds of things when we were that young. Maybe they were, and I was this ignorant, naive adolescent with the mentality of a 5 year-old. After all, I can't deny I'm a late (or a never) bloomer.

Hmm. It's so hard to tell a kid from a "young adult" nowadays. Or, in retrospect, was it ever easy? Just a thought. And doesn't that just make me feel even older?