Dinner is potato chips and store bought cookies, the kind with the big chocolate chunks and the little bit of crumbly biscuit.
This afternoon I wanted to cry over all the things I could not have. Stepping of the bus and out into the real world where people didn't converse on street corners, unless they were good friends. Where people wait awkwardly at the bus stop, sitting as far apart as possible on the wooden bench, almost falling off the hard colorful wood surface.
I hate my lack of communication.

I am wired and I crave the opportunity to yell, not a high pitched shriek but rather a deep throaty yell. Yelling the lyrics to the most emotional song I listen to these days. I want to jump on my spring loaded mattress and thrash my head making my blonde hair fly around my head. Instead I turn up the base, and the volume on my stereo and sing along with angry emotion. I put on my wings and I jump up and down in place until my mother walks in and asks if I need my pills.