[Sometimes I'm just sitting and thinking, and I feel pain crawling to the middle of my head.]

I'm seventeen. My back is two hundred. 

***

I eat in every mood, and to be honest- eating is my mood. As long as there is eating, I don't have any weird fascination with fatal cancers.

***

When I wasn't saddled with insomnia, I used to stay up for unimportant things like life. Wiser now.

***

Books and music!

They're major distractions from the fact that I was born a small speck of the vast universe, and that my autobiography will only be read by a sulking dude who's lost a bet on the release date of Avatar.

***

I mostly dream of learning something new- an exotic-sounding language, taekwondo timed with bagpipes, hideout of all those rainbows and unicorns that promise life will be a better place. Even just how to comb my hair. 

Then I wake up.

***

I might also see apparitions if I am alone in a dark room, and assume every laugh outside is Pennywise's, and check under the bed sometimes for the little girl with blood-red eyes.

***

But otherwise- I'm okay.

I'm here, smiling all nice and yellow.