It's such a beautiful day to go outside. I wish I had an artsy boyfriend who would sit on the front lawn with me and look at the clouds. Artsy beau would do a little sketch in his journal and I'd take a photo of his beautiful, tortured face agonising over lines. We'd hear fireworks from our Indian neighbours (it's Diwali) and wonder if there's actually a turf war going on. Then we'd scratch each other's grass-rash ridden backs and go inside for lollipops. I'm writing all this from beneath my sheets.
From my teen anguish journal filled with gum wrappers, photos and doodles.