Girls in Love
One Girl
The first day back at school. I'm walking because I missed the bus. Not a good start. Year Nine. I wonder what it'll be like.
Number nine, number nine, number nine . . .
It's on that classic Beatles White Album, the crazy mixed-up bit at the end. I've always felt close to John Lennon even though he died before I was born. I like him because he did all those crazy little drawings and he wore granny glasses and he was funny and he always just did his own thing. I do crazy little drawings and I wear granny glasses and my friends think I'm funny. I don't get the opportunity to do my own thing, though.
It's half past eight. If I was doing my own thing right now I'd be back in bed, curled up, fast asleep. John Lennon had lie-ins, didn't he, when he and Yoko stayed in bed all day. They even gave interviews to journalists in bed. Cool.
So, if I could do my own thing I'd sleep till midday. Then breakfast. Hot chocolate and doughnuts. I'd listen to music and fool around in my sketchbook. Maybe watch a video. Then I'd eat again. I'd send out for a pizza. Though maybe I should stick to salads. I guess it woul ...
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