the center cannot hold
The New Year is a little more dangerous. It seems that everything is at stake. I finished all my college applications weeks before my brothers; have been scheduling interviews, compiling a book list for my research paper, watching something grow inside my head: motivation where there used to be none. Classes start tomorrow and I ache to put in hour after hour, perfect my technique. To accomplish something, a contract or an acknowledgement in the very least. (i can see my body changing already)
At the same time, I am getting sicker. I am still massive, but my thoughts are more and more insistent. My roommate moves in tomorrow and I'm scared of what she'll think of my eating habits.
Iowa Writer's Workshop hosts a summer program for high school students. I need ten pages of poems by February to apply. There is no fee. I desperately want to get in. I don't know what to do.
At the same time, I am getting sicker. I am still massive, but my thoughts are more and more insistent. My roommate moves in tomorrow and I'm scared of what she'll think of my eating habits.
Iowa Writer's Workshop hosts a summer program for high school students. I need ten pages of poems by February to apply. There is no fee. I desperately want to get in. I don't know what to do.