my computer screen is framed with sticky notes reminding me of all the things i have to do before i leave for iowa. they are taking tests and marching in parades and finding dresses. on the top is the budda that mr. cochrane gave to me and the box of helpful hints that jax gave me today. i had to promise her something to get the box. i promised her that i would write a book by the time i'm twenty six, and then my mom and i had a conversation about me having a baby by the age of twenty seven.
all the posts here are about the same thing. WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO WITH MYSELF? HOW DO I LIVE SO THAT I AM HAPPY AND SO THAT MY LIFE MEANS SOMETHING.
this isn't poetry. this is shouting into the dark. this is asking for advice that no one can give me.
