I believe that people who throw labels around, judge, compare, and criticize do so only because deep down inside, they’re insecure in their own skin. By trying to make you more like them or change you, it validates their own actions. If you drink, party, and act recklessly, then their drinking, partying, and recklessness is justified.

“See”, they say to themselves, “I’m not the only one who is doing this. Other people do it too so that makes it okay.”

Peer pressure is ultimately driven by fear and loneliness. These things won’t really make them happy if they do it alone, but if they can get others to do them, then it doesn’t seem as pathetic and insecure.

Stay true to your compass. If that means finding a new social circle, that’s okay. There are over 7 Billion people in this world and I’m sure there’s at least a dozen in your own town or city that are of your generation and share your feelings, values, interests, and goals.

The body is at its most ambitious and most fertile peak in all aspects while in the age-range of the good ole’ 20s – I believe it has something to do with hormones in healthy and well-rounded individuals. That being said, writing stories, endlessly as you state, is, in my humble opinion, absolutely gorgeous, fun, worth every moment spent and admirable. A true character-builder. What got me started in writing was documenting the world as my season began. I’m sure you have heard all of the “sayings” that go a little something like this: It’s about the journey, You only see what your eyes want to see, Silence is golden, I would write this for hours though I’ll stop there on that topic. I’m sharing my season-story with you as you shared yours with, well, here.

Before that, did you read the newest blog post on Tiny Buddha website, This blog-posting ? I have memories being washed into my consciousness at the moment. Here’s my season story;

Age: Within my early 20s, I was the ultra-cautious, studious and ever-present wholesome person. Everyone around me was doing AND saying the same (similar) as above, as what you write about, very similar, if not a little too similar.

These scenarios and party-focused friends had no reflection on me in the beginning of turning 21, or maybe I did not have a reaction to them. Had these scenarios impacted my consciousness, I was not tuned into their frequency, which, in itself, is a subconscious reaction, later rising to the surface of consciousness.

People did say I was more interested in learning, reading, writing and developing than taking a day-off of life to enjoy my youth. The labels did begin to be placed around me/on me, though, labels did not have form nor did they have impact at that time. I did not ignore, I was raised to understand people, many people in this vast world we live in, speak to mirrors. Without discounting a friend, I noted the words (I still note the words) and labels they see within my eyes and recognize that these words and labels are what they are, reflections & reflected from unto another, like an echo or recorder, through the years I’ve learned that some people repeat, and like a record player, some people skip, repeating infinitely until they are woken up to the life they’re living.

Labels and categories a person places creates a fraction in the others’ psyche. I’ve observed and counseled many “frienemy” situations. When the party life began, drama rose, intensifying after a while subsequent to the labeled friends’ psyche sometimes breathing in the poison. Repetitive intoxication with futility often breeds shadow effects. After learning this with experience, secrets and whispers were within each friend and each friend turned to me, I listen and focus, the most important person is the one in-front of you, the most important time is now.

When I was going through my initial season, we all had fantastic careers, some remaining in classrooms, our attentions focused as a single intertwined sponge unfolding in water. With all of the toxins being ingested within a daily social life, I was able to see that friends were transforming into various identities, individual persons within individual people, growing in directions that I thought fascinating. We were/are bicoastal, we are labeled with the word “Guh”, we are the trendsetters, regardless of if I was going out with them every night or not, regardless if I partied as they; we were/are all one group, together and individually labeled “Guh”.

The term “Guh” is a southern term for Guys & Gals of the Southern Stocracy, the benchmark for southern society during our era. Some friends were southern Bells continuing duties, kings & queens within Orders of official Mardi Gras, ran and started new companies, we worked our mind’s core hard for the educations and family was indeed watching/guiding. “The time of our lives” was, at that time, socially focused on us and we were (still are) urged to go through & turnout. We are as tight as ever though divided by thousands of miles, today. I didn’t have to party like everyone to be labeled a Guh, I was named “Voilà” and Voilà is referenced as a Guh whether I intoxicated myself or not. It’s by association. This is part of my life, though, not defined as “I am” within my consciousness. The family and parents were more impressive with the destruction of our youth through partying and maintaining social standing, this all would have transpired, regardless

With all of the “society-first” & “socialize-hard” backwards raising, another aspect of this “set-up” lifestyle included duties for the family name umbrella. The southern way is clique first. The families knew all and pressured us to fulfill our “social responsibility.” Unfortunately, hypocrisy was/is forefront. Expectations were to party hard and have a façade of perfection. if you’re reckless enough to make a fool of your name, you’re forever cast like a skipping shell across the water.

After a while, I began to notice the most blatant, initial change in quite an unexpected modus operandi. When the lights went down, personalities changed, having one mask in formal sittings, one with friends, another during a work-day and another while in party-mode. Living a quadruple life, I was very intrigued at the extent these friends were splitting, consciously, so I began intensely documenting, journaling several books with several hundred hand-written pages of parchment, leather wrapped & mediaeval-style, so not what anyone else was doing, often laughed at in the beginning, the actions I set forth made a difference, both at that time for my psyche and in later years with friends. I maintain the same journals, now with artwork included such as drawings, sketches and the occasional painted page when not painting on canvas.

The journals are current, some of the most therapeutic, enjoyable zoned-out time that I carved out for sanity. After these friends got over the laughing, they became intrigued with their stories, maybe too much. We began substituting our names with character-names, another façade. This was the only way to maintain us all on the same page, no pun intended. These books are known as the Guh Bylaws and all of us copied our stories into a merged central book, then, of course, many of the hard-core partyGuhs changed their history-facts and hide their actions as if they were shamed, though, through my eyes, these are everlasting impressions from memory and within the original form, still on the original parchment wrapped in leather, this set of books are still a growing saga of the life I live and observe. I wrote on the parchment rather than joining the party drunken, at least for a long time.

Later, the label(s) placed upon me was “a late bloomer” in the party-world and “Horus” to friends & families, both are funny, to me as I became “Horus Voilà.” The thing is, I noticed that the friends were ashamed every day after a while, the party didn’t stop for them. When merging our history to a main book to be passed down to “Lil Guhs”, the actions and extent of the party was edited again by each person.

While all of this was flowing in a strong current, I maintain(ed) my own head. Instead of partying I was studying, in a gymnasia, at a charity board-meeting, speaking with someone with wise words, I was (am) learning.

When I began noticing that I was focused on career as a primary, I was persuaded into a direction by everyone within this “normal” world, rather than practicing in the gymnasia, rather than physical activity, when I noticed this, I began to pull and see new faces into my life, not on purpose, people were just drawn, I was in need of fun, party-goers know the symptoms.

The Guhs began to extend their “Live Fast, Die Young” mentality and some began a treacherous path once the Lil Guhs began their season. AGE. This is when I was pulled (willingly) into the club circuit, house parties- I didn’t go overboard and I saw more than anyone should. Fun at times, in the beginning, though I felt I was not my self, I wasn’t. I was not solely focusing on career advancement, I was a butterfly.

When I stepped into the parties and participating within this, for lack of better word, stage, there was a moment when I had enough–the moment I began joining the party, joining in that manner. Oh the headaches! This life of fun was more than a career unto itself. I was scheduling appearances, where I would be, when, with whom, dressed in which way, when and where… I began noticing peer pressure of friends onto others, I began noticing these friends did not enjoy careers, they were escaping on a level I hadn’t seen, of course because I was not participating at that level. I was maintaining a balancing act with my career and a super-social life. I was young and I had everything to lose, I maintained moderation and I didn’t see another friend who had moderation. When in super-social gear, career advancement was not as it was, I was having fun and learning, learning is the central-guide to all that I see, still. I noticed that the fun was somewhat a façade in hindsight. This group vacillating between 20 – 40 individuals and couples, my self included, were in the deep southern states of the US, on the Gulf of Mexico. I began seeing a proper façade with a hidden drink in so many people’s hands. Seeing outcomes in choice-paths made by friends began my exit. We were now solidified as a standard, years had passed since we began going through our youthful, playfulness, one year had passed (about to pass) since I joined the party to celebrate my youth, I began to see that there was not a point, there was an excuse, an escape, a tangible fear-of-future which drove the plastered faces.

I learned a new faceted perspective of will. I learned people’s mirrors were inherited from their families. I learned that every little thing that you say or do changes and impacts the unexpected. I learned parties give headaches/hangovers/overall-grossness, I saw on many that partying hard can certainly give wrinkles as though with every day and night that passed by was as if an elixir was being drank that drained the youth and beauty from the once-pretty faces. As I exited I noticed friends aged rapidly more than others. I learned the wild fun, for me, is an instance that is enjoyed then detached, I can drop in and drop out of any scene, though, most of the people, very diverse people, seemed to have something in common, they don’t want to admit, still, they continue to party well after their season. The Guhs are drinkers and party-hard always for the most-part. I learned to let go and I learned the power of goodbye.