Found a post on, Small Japanese Notebook that struck me as a concise description of being 16:
“i suddenly don’t like my friends. or a good majority of them.”
I was on the Haight awhile back and overheard a conversation between three men. Two of them had been fighting and one asked the third man his opinion:
“I don’t know Jim, you were servin Tommy with some pretty aggressive tones.”
Subject: Friend from college writes, filling me in on the friends he saw over Christmas break.
…And I swear my friend Mike
smoked about fourteen acres of hash down in Brazil.
Like I don’t know if he’s got a complete sentence in
him anymore. But 99 percent of my friends are tops. Including
Mike, who may well be able to read without moving
his lips by April.