This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night.
In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings.
This music was her—the real plain her…
This music did not take a long time or a short time.
It did not have anything to do with time going by at all.
She sat with her arms around her legs, biting her salty knee very hard.
The whole world was this symphony,
and there was not enough of her to listen…
Now that it was over there was only her heart beating like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.
I felt disappointed with myself in English class today.
We were given twenty minutes to write
an essay on anything in particular and it was based on a diary entry.
Even though I had quite a few ideas to write about I don't know why
I couldn't write out the words onto the paper.
I just kept staring and staring at the paper with only the words
"Dear Diary" written at the top and when I realised I had
only five minutes left to complete,I did what I do best at;
Panic and scribbled down nonsense.
I sort of feel useless.