Reading the pieces of my fellow Intro to Fiction and Poetry classmates brings a really queer feeling. I can hear their voices when I read their pieces. I’ve never experienced this before. I enjoy it. It makes the stories that much more interesting, even though I know they are not finished, professional prose. I wonder if I can ever write a story where I hear my own voice.

My little write-up about shower curtain apparently attracted a whole bunch of attention. It’s my fault the shower curtains got replaced. I feel so important. Like, so amazingly important, it’s ridiculous. I never really understood the appeal of counterculture before. But now, now I realize the wonderful high you get from sticking it to The Man. Fight the power. I will continue to fight. Ahaha, maybe when I’m done with this school, I won’t have to transfer.