I’m wearing glasses every day. I rarely wear a bra.
I look in the mirror every 20 minutes and wonder if my body has changed.
I lay awake at night thinking about boys and what it would be like to kiss one.
I wonder what sex will be like.
Meal times mean nothing.
I have a lot of books but only ones written by Roald Dahl are open.
I fantasize about sitting in the sun with a group of friends drinking alcohol. I imagine it will look like an Applebee’s commercial.
I wish I could hangout with my friends without permission.
The freedom of an afternoon bike ride.
My radio is constantly on. My door is always closed.
I fling myself on my bed while on the phone. I lay on my stomach, I twirl my hair.
Oreos and Wild Berry Skittles.
I think I can write poetry. Moreover, I think it is good. I am sure I will be a poet when I'm older.
I am surprised by body hair.
Occasionally, I have to wait for the Internet.
New York City seems sad, wild and scary.
My parents are checking in on me in a way that is caring but I feel is unnecessary.
My friends are chronically available.
I dance in my room. Alone. A lot.
I want to go outside, but I’m afraid I’ll get in trouble.
My period is kind of an exciting event.
I paint and repaint my toenails.
I am 30 13.