I wonder what I'm going to write here, what it'll turn into. It's strange just writing from my mind but I seem to be doing it. It's so dark outside now, and it gets dark so early. I still miss summer. I miss camp and everyone from there. I hope I see them all again. There are 250 days until I return, 240 days until school ends. I'm excited, but I don't want to rush things like that. I don't want the school year to end. It's hard typing up my thoughts like this, they come in so quickly then more come in as I type them. I guess after this I'll turn on a Spotify playlist and then read for a few hours until I go to bed. Tomorrow is a Wednesday. We're almost halfway through the school week. I'm glad. I like school but it's so tiring...waking up at six and everything. I'm so glad I get to sleep in a few hours, I'm exhausted. Ok, wow, I've actually written a lot. Ugh, I hate math. It's the worst class. By writing this I'm realizing how uninteresting my thoughts are. Like they're only interesting when I put my mind to it, which I'm not doing! I'm so glad I've done all my homework. I guess I'm not gonna finish the episode I started, though. Well, maybe I'll finish on Friday. We're picking electives on Thursday! Unfortunately, my homeroom's going last, but still. I also hate PE. It's just terrible and should not exist. For some reason this is strangely hard to write, let me take a break to stretch my putty and think about what to write next. Ugh, I'm so boooorrrreeddd and this is definitely not good writing. In fact, it's just a lot of unrelated sentences mashed together. Well, whatever. That's what thoughts are like, I guess.
Random Thoughts II
More by star
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I Don't Want
No. I don't want to love you.
I don't want to play songs that sound like you
until they become my whole head, I don't want
to write a poem
if you ever call me laughing and cold
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A Girl, 9:43 p.m.
She has just showered, and her hair hangs limp down her back, washed of the shampoo she waited five minutes, forehead against the cool tile wall, to rinse off. The sky is ink and charcoal, but then, it has been for hours.
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I wanna be a literary girl
& walk around soho with maxi skirts & matcha & annotate the bell jar in velvet blue ink on curling pages with garamond font & wear my hair long down my back & dark sunglasses pulled up on my head & bangle bracelets that sli
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