When I was younger I always used to imagine that being twelve would be really fantastic. I always pictured myself in a cropped, satin purple vest top and black flares with spikey bunchies and black lipstick. The reality turned out somewhat different. I was actually gaining a ridiculous amount of weight (I went from a size 6 to a size 12) and I had a bad haircut and an equally bad personality to match. It is now the 20th march, meaning I'm turning seventeen in three days time. Which is a good age to start having my mid life crisis, right?
I have no talent -
I really really wish I could sing. If I could sing, I'd be in a band and I'd be an ultra cool hipster type and wear tight, low cut jeans which my hip bones would stick out from. If I could sing, I'd be able to write really shit, shallow, philisophical poetry and I'd smoke cigarettes and generally "not give a damn", I'd also have an ultra cool boyfriend who never smiled, we'd have nothing in common apart from the ability to look moody in photographs and our penchant for tight 1980s clothing. This wasn't to be the case for me though, I'm currently sixteen and I frequently get nits* and have nosebleeds**, cool.
* I don't really get nits
** or have nosebleeds
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