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I have chosen what college I’m going to. It’s in Florida, a place I’d swore I’d never live because of the heat. Life is funny that way.

My friend asked me to go to prom with him and I accepted. I bought my prom dress in Florida after I visited that college.

I’m watching the Gilmore Girls on Netflix. Rory Gilmore makes me feel bad about myself.

I’m keeping my head above water in AP Chemistry.

I’m reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Waiting for Godot. They’re good. Dense but good.

I entered a poetry competition at school and didn’t win. That’s okay. I like my poem.

I got my eyes checked today. My right one’s getting worse.

I have switched from grey colored contacts (which I have been wearing for six years) to clear ones.

I don’t like to wear my retainers so my gap is coming back. I hate my gap as much as I hate my retainers.

I have the urge to dye my hair red. I know it would look stupid, but I have always wanted red hair. Maybe I will do it in college.

My self-esteem goes up and down several times a day, like somebody’s adam’s apple.

My parents’ wedding anniversary is tomorrow.

My (Jamaican) mother has two (Jamaican) visitors over the house. They have been staying with us for a couple of weeks and will soon (Thank God) go back to where they game from. They keep leaving the kitchen door open and letting tiny flies get in. I went into the kitchen just now to look in the fridge. My mom and the lady were talking. My mom said to me, “Don’t look at me like that. You don’t love your momma anymore?” as she tried to cup my chin in her hand. The lady said, unprovoked, “Ya wan’ titty.” Mom said, “She did like the breast when she was a baby.” I walked outta there quick(ly).

I felt so bad the other day that I almost took one of my dad’s anxiety pills.

My dad has Parkinson’s. Doctors put wires in his brain and two batteries in his chest to try to fix him. I wonder sometimes if he will ever get fixed. It makes me feel heavy when I think about him. I try not to.

What Would Freud Say?

Last night, we ordered out for dinner. We were ticket number 72.

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It was 8:15. I meant to sleep for only 15 minutes, to get some shut-eye before starting my homework. I’ve been very tired recently. I’m sure I dreamed more than this, but this is what I can remember:

I was in my house. My dad kept calling out for ketchup, I think, and milk. I had a feeling in the dream that my brother would take care of it and get Dad what he wanted. But I think I hid myself so that Dad would not expect me to do anything for him. When I finally did come out, I noticed a huge, black fly zooming through the house. It was fast. I swung at it several times and missed. I probably made it angry because it began to attack me. I tried to swat it away with my hands.

In the next part of the dream, I was in the backseat of my mother’s car. My dad, mom, and brother were in there. My mom was driving us down a highway. There was some traffic up ahead. When I found out that we were headed for exit 72, I began to hyperventilate. I thought the coincidence was a bad sign (Remember ticket #72?). I was certain that if we went on exit 72, all of us were going to die. I told my mom to take the nearest exit (73) and she did.

There was a stoplight just off the exit. My mom positioned the car as if she were going to turn left, but when the light was green, she wildly swung the car in a wide right turn. The car seemed to swing in slow motion. The street was wide. Our car stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, and my mom pulled me out of the car to follow her across the street. We made it safely to the side, but I was worried about my brother who was still in the car. I ran to the car and drove it to a nearby parking lot. My mom said, “I can’t understand why you just did that.”

There was a van in the parking lot. It was apparently ours. The doors were unlocked, and these strangers climbed in and seemed about to steal it. I yelled, “Hey! Hey! Hey!” I apparently went over there because the next thing I remember is reprimanding some kid. He was crouched down behind the back of the passenger seat in the van, and I held him by his collar. I was strangling him with his shirt, saying something like, “My parents worked too hard for this.” He replied, “And their children are failures.” I slackened my hold of him and asked, “Why would you say that?” I looked into his face and thought he looked just like my brother.

In another part of the dream, I’m sitting in a helicopter next to an Asian soldier. Jump cut to a sunny little place, like a screened porch that lets in all the light from outside. I get the impression that I’m in a museum because there are paintings on a wall and the voice of someone like a tour guide. There are four Japanese-style paintings. One of them is chipped in a way that makes it look like it’s made out of wood. Each of the portraits have a beautiful, orange-brown hue like parchment paper. There is paint on each figure’s nose. The tour guide explains that the status or worth of a person is determined by the color of their nose. I am extremely saddened by this and I start to cry. That big, black fly reappears to harass me. I swat at it without killing it. My sister and mother enter the room just then, all smiles.

They want to take my picture.