To write, reminds me of a diary. That’s what writing was when I was a child. The image of stacked, finished fresh diaries is clear.

His voice cracked when he told me, “she doesn’t believe the same I do,” “She doesn’t believe it all happens when you’re a kid.”

Impressions. I believe it; The smell of cigarette, I used to get sick. Five years old, loudly coughing by the Wal-Mart entrance where they would stand.

Wherever you go there you are, I heard your problems follow you.

I have to remember everything I learned.

Hearing it for the first time, or pretending to. Yelling, what does it really sound like?

Breathing in second-hand smoke; I don’t need to stand so far away.

I’ll be presenting this on Thursday, and that feels real for the first time.

It’s Tuesday.

The second day of the week, my favorite day right now. Things are working out for me. Maybe not all of them, but the important things are.

What I know to write about is love. What I know to say about my dreams would be romantic. I don’t feel like writing about that anymore. I don’t feel like talking about how you’d need a three digit-number to know how many times I’ve watched the Titanic. Although, watching it later myself is not out of the question.

My daily life though, will I be able to separate it from romance.

This time I think will be easier than I once thought.

The separation of my daily life from romance:

I called my mom today. She helped me register for an online Art History course. Yesterday, I got a scholarship for this coming year’s tuition and I called my dad about it.

I am smart. When I was a child, there was a consensus that I wasn’t. But I was driven, and sensitive.

Today I can’t eat sugar. Tomorrow I can’t either. This is due to a sickness that will be healed soon. There is always something, standing, in the middle of me and food. When I am able to eat what I want, I’ll be healed.

I know I’ll get accepted to the graduate schools I apply to. I got accepted to all the undergraduate colleges I applied to. And I’m better now.

The acceptances shocked my father; But not me.

I haven’t shocked myself since I ate a strawberry frosted donut from Dunkin’ Donuts. (It even had sprinkles)

The intellect intrigues me.

I like studying math. I like reading about the history of art. I like being smart.

And I’m in love.