Graduation party today. 9 am. uncles. Family. I talk, mostly listen. Cafe, tamales, not hungry, but I must do things to make others happy. So I eat the tamal. 

I miss you. You always said that you'd never be able to fully understand me, butyou know me more than I know myself. Because there is no me, just what you think I am. Thats all I'll ever be. Today Im the grad. Friends around me. They don't get it. I don't get it, but again I'm not real. One sunny Sunday. I realize I don't know these people. I'll never know these people. All I know is that I've caused them pain. They'll never know me. But they get to see me cut the cake. Look down at my hands. Make sure. 

It's time for cake. I stand and look down. I can't let them see me. Who Am I? What did I do to deserve this? I'm a fake, a phony, and a fool. Mostly blue and never golden. How long till this is over? 

I'm a brat. I don't know how to love. But I smile and I practice the things you say to people: "OMG, they're so big now." I don't think I like kids. I don't want kids. Everything feels oppressive. I spiral. There are flowers on the cake. I think about the flowers you got me—the ones rotting in my bedroom. 

Lose monopoly. Get overstimulated. Think about my friend thatwont talk to me anymore. Think bout the love I lost. Make people upset. go home. pee. cry.