forcing myself to think one thought at a time

I put on new sheets today. It's a lot fucking easier to put them on when you're not on the top bunk. You can sort of rest your bodyweight on the bed frame and pick the mattress up, squishing comfort into a blue guardian: sort of like a water balloon, only less painful in the long run. Because someone always gets hurt when a water balloon occurs, only sometimes, it's the balloon itself.

We ate dragon fruit tonight. I hadn't eaten it since the summer after 6th grade when I went to China for the first and only time. I get sort of irritated when people say "back to China" when referring to my trip. There's no back for me, you see. I was made in Canada. Born there, too. If I'm going back anywhere it's to that land directly above Montana and not that different, except with the Northern Lights and a bit more windchill during the winter. I haven't been back there, either. Left when I was squalling and one years old for a place slightly further north with a bit more Northern Lights and a lot more windchill. I don't remember it either, we moved for what seemed like forever back then to Ottawa when I was three. I went to twelve daycares and 4 elementary schools, skipped a grade, poured chocolate milk on my 4th grade crush. I never graduated from elementary school, something that bothered me until 8th grade when my middle school graduation in a politely clean and rudely enforcing suburb in the South of the United States gave me 8 accolades. The band director, who announced my awards, because I was Musical and Worldly and played the bassoon, had to tell the audience (consisting of family. no friends, it was middle school.) to cease applauding twice before he finished telling them all.

I think my desire for glory was appeased then, because I haven't done much conventionally since then, since my middle school graduation, since I labeled people into cliques with names that all shortened into three letter acronyms (pop, prp., gek, frk, ...), since then.

My name is Maggie. My best friend spells my name maggie! sometimes. I used to, but not anymore. I am 17 and he and I are a pair of Mersenne primes in our ages, something that will never happen again. I am going to be a freshman at a reputable state school this fall and I am looking for a lot to happen. I am looking to start over, to learn how to be nice to more than people I don't know and my best friend, to not be sketched out by drugs that are not marijuana, to drink decaffeinated coffee, and to run for 30 minutes without stopping. I am at 25 right now.
I want new friends but to also keep my old friends. I want to learn Chinese, my heritage language, the language of my family, of my food and of more of myself than I want to believe. I want to become better at French to prove to my 2nd grade French teacher that I did not fucking deserve that C.

I have a lot to say. I have a lot to prove. I want to find that I am not just talking to myself, that I am not just proving things to myself.

I am on a journey to find people who care.