Stupid daylight saving and a plate of steaming peas

Life’s been as fascinating as a plate of peas. Oh you’re sick of them? You have to eat the damn peas anyway. And another plate. And another. More peas. Quick, or they’re gonna get cold.

My fingers in the mornings are red. It’s cold. More cold than the disgusting peas. I should wear gloves. But who has gloves? I only have one. A nice one. But only one. 

In twenty-eight days, I’m turning sixteen. Sixteen years of cutting my hair, going to the movie theater, laughing and driving under the rain, speaking my mind, asking questions, writing nonsense, wearing matching socks when I feel like it, hating peas, drawing, holding hands, taking pictures, trying to stand out, painting my nails and collecting playlists, stickers and memories.

Talking about life, laughing so hard, we even saw a falling star and a deer. I wish I was joking when I say that I almost hit it with the car, it scared me. Almost as much as the ghosts standing on the side of the road, watching over me. I listened to music to avoid thinking about ghosts. Fuck you, ghosts.

tear up the ticket, you slept on his shoulder during the whole show. I hope it was comfortable. 

i fucking hate peas.

Lee