12:13 pm - Tuesday, Sept. 03, 2002
Song:
Junior year. A junior in high school. It sounds like some big scary thing to me. Aren�t I supposed to be driving by now? Aren�t I supposed to know what I�m doing? Shouldn�t my parents offer just a little more freedom?
I always thought I�d be grown up by this age. I would have mastered the art of make up I sort of get it, found I was irresistible to boys I love the one I�ve got and learned that there�s nothing I love more than high school these are not the best years of your life.
Yet I find something comforting in the fact I haven�t yet got it all figured out.
I know some things about myself. I love the way boys smell. I love to be held. I couldn�t live without physical contact, but please don�t touch me too much in public unless I initiate it.
I love kisses on the forehead and eyelids. Surprises. People who care.
I adore Chinese food and Pad-Thai. Rainy days, snow, cold, fall and winter.
And yet none of this tells me anything about what I�m supposed to do with my life. And I�m beginning to wish any of this lead anywhere.
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