Eighteen...and Still Holding a Pop

I just turned eighteen last Feb. 18. The night before, we ate, talked, sang, opened gifts, etc. But I slept early because I don't want to be late in my 7AM English class.
Kriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! 6AM. I woke up when the service had just passed by the bakery where I would wait for it. Waaah. New start. "SAYA..." Still I celebrated my exact birth date (Feb. 18 at 3PM) with someone I dearly love.
OKAY. Done with the past.
Now I tell the whole world, I AM STILL WHO I AM.
According to chronology, I'm eighteen.
According to the law, I'm entitled to have a driver's license, to be married without parental consent, to vote for the new batch of corrupt politicians, etc. etc.
According to the Phil. society, I am an ADULT. Oh c'mon, I don't look like one.
But still, I'm still a child at heart.
Oblivious to many things in the world.
Intentionally using my selective attention to its fullest gear.
Coz I'm still not ready to face the world.
The harsh reality of this adult world.
The responsibilities of being an adult.
I'm still trying not to care about many things coz I don't want the remaining part of me to be corrupted fully.
By lies, pretension, unequal diffusion of responsibility, nonchalance, etc.
I am still a child who literally and figuratively still hold on to my cola-flavored Magic Pop.
A child whose principles are slowly tested by practicality.
You may not agree with me...but when you turn eighteen, it is nothing for you.
Nothing or something.
I'm my case, it's a BIG change.
Coz because of this number,. I AM FORCED TO ACT AN ADULT. SOMETHING THAT I DETEST.
Because when you turn to an adult, the sheer volume of responsibility for yourself and for others may either regress you into a child again, or make you quite insensitive.