Being Young

Okay, so there's this Asian American youtuber (you'll note how I spend a lot of time on youtube on this blog... it's tv on steroids... seriously) named Kevjumba. He was probably the first youtube celebrity I actually followed. I never really thought much about his videos except that some were funny and quite true about Asians and how they deal with their kids. So I started watching more of his videos which led me to older videos he's made. I remember the first time I heard him cuss in a video and I immediately checked the comments section for people's reactions and apparently he cussed in his older videos, a lot.

My point in all of this is I realized how horrible it would be for him in the future (especially when he gets around the age where he realizes what a jackass he used to sound like). He only turned 20 this year and while his videos contain the same funny Kevin, he's toned down a bit especially in the cussing department and he's gotten a bit more mature and open-minded and educated (he's in college now).

This blog isn't really about Kevjumba. This blog is about being young. See, most of us are lucky that our youth wasn't caught on tape. The only evidence for the most of us are captured on photos which when burned (in the literal "fire" sense) will be gone forever. But such is not the case in cyberspace. When you upload something online, it's there forever. Someone would've downloaded it and can upload it in a remote server somewhere and there's nothing you can do about it.

I remember reading a journal (well it was really a diary) I used to write back in the day and I was aghast at my young self. I was so self-absorbed and like a lot of teens was ungrateful for the blessings I had. I couldn't believe what a horrible teenage daughter I was to my parents. Poor them. The fact that I was so immature and felt very entitled as a lot of young people do nowadays, it's as if the world owed me something.

My point is that let's be grateful that the past is past. If you used to be a jackass, then stop. Leo Buscaglia wrote that he had a professor who loved being old because he didn't have to deal with the foolishness of the young. I love that.