sometimes I want to crawl in a hole for no reason and wait until things are good.
things are good. I guess I want things to be better.
I kind of wish I could dance. I pretend I can, but I must look silly. Mary can dance. Megan can dance. Olivia can't dance.
I wish I could make my black and white less black and more white. I know this sounds racist, but those photo's just look so much classier next to mine.
Is it wrong to want to be popular still, after all those movies?
all I want is my inbox to be overflowing with spontaneous loving and plan making.
I don't mind being abnormally pale. I just wish it was evenly spread out rather than having red splotches of pigmented skin here and there. I look like a strawberry shortcake. not that that's bad, because I smell like one too.
When I was in second grade I wanted glasses. and braces. desperately. oh. and also carrot red hair. can't forget that. yes. I wished for these things. So ferverantly. And when my dentist said that I was for sure getting braces I cried. with joy. because I had wanted them for seven years. think I'm a nerd yet? it gets better.
but I'll stop there. to spare your image of me. I like to imagine myself an enigma of cool mystique. but that doesn't really work out with the previous words....
I think to much of what people think of me.
I think too much period. about things like
shakespearean insults, what heaven smells like, if anyone even reads my rantings, the point of patterns on toilet paper, how much skill it takes to graffiti in the dark of night, what green colored pencils taste like, what kind of mother I will be, if I will do my hair like La Roux when I am a wrinkled woman, and pink lemonade.