When one thinks of the word "duality", the most apparent thing and the first thing to come to mind is the number two. Whether you thought of those blots they use in psychotherapy analyses that may or may not look like two fish, of two lovers riding off into the sunset on a noble steed, or a Double Quarter Pounder (because 'Murica, of course), the concept of two and of duality is nothing new to mankind, regardless of the time frame, the shape of society during such time frame, or whatever other example that can fit into the "et cetera" category.

But what is different across all lives, even in such a broad spectrum, is that which holds meaning in our experiences as we go through an increasingly turbulent life. As a senior in high school in 2016 that makes the voting cutoff by two days, I would like to think that I am wise in such concepts and know that I at least will become so. Sometimes I'd like a sunset to ride off into. That's human nature.

But as life becomes more turbulent, the need is more evident that we as individuals need to start making sense of our lives in parts. One can execute this in any fashion they'd like: chronologically, in a piece of paper full of bank passwords, whatever. But in my case, the transition from childhood to adulthood is obviously one of the most commanding forces in my life, if not the single most so. Thus, it is only natural that what little chronological time I have serves as my guide through life. Maybe I'll eat that sentence when I'm forty, but it will do for now.

Today, a major landmark in such a tracker just hit me. I got a 31 on my ACT (with a perfect score in English, because I'm still young enough to think bragging is fun).

For those who don't know, the ACT is a standardized college entrance exam that hundreds of thousands of students all over the country take to try and get into the university of their choice. Certain colleges have certain criteria or a middle fifty percent range, and the pressure of living up to that score in one test covering all subjects in all years of curriculum can sometimes be daunting for many kids.

But I scored within the top 4% of kids in the country overall. That feels kinda weird.

It's not weird because they said I would never walk or talk when I was a baby, not like that. It's weird because regardless of my score it's one of my first real tastes of life passing me by.

My mom texted me today with a picture of the scores and the caption, "I have tears in my eyes". As I was writing this, my stepdad came downstairs to where the computer is and congratulated me on my test. I should be happy, and I am happy that I can probably get into a lot of schools that a lot of kids get denied from just based on this score (or, for some, lack thereof). It's kinda nice in an a-holey way. It feels powerful.

But they would know. They've had all sorts of life come and go. They've been through these standardized tests and bigger standardized tests like the bar exam or the CPA exam. And balding. I'm sure balding's a pretty big one. I'm not looking forward to it, but however beside the point that is, it's everything to do with the point. All I have is not-quite-18 years to work off of. I'm able to check my little-furnished bank account via an app and not have to ask how to use it or to turn on my phone. I have it nice. It's the hurricane for some people, but for me it's just the calm before the storm.

And I look back (with a hindsight of about 6 hours) on this 31 as a pillar to adulthood. I've heard a lot about it. It seems kinda stressful and unnecessarily bloated or overly complicated. Now, I'm entering it, and I know I'm going to sit here at 40 and think, "Damn, I wish I did this when I was 17" and that I don't realize what power I have at this crucial and pivotal age in my life, and I kinda feel in some fight-or-flight mechanism like running (driving now?) to the nearest Baskin Robbins and trying to drown my power temporarily in some sugar-saturated entity of one of their 31 iconic and oh-so-delicious flavors.

"Ogres have layers," said Shrek. So do our lives, as our experiences both age us chronologically with filler time and age us in wisdom. With what little worry and plentiful simplicity my life has, the 31 Baskin Robbins flavors meant to me that I was in the clear. I added a layer today. I will laugh at this article when I'm 40, and I can only hope now that it is with forlorn wisdom.