I sprawl out across my book-strewn bed. The window is shut tight, the words on the page are swimming, and the beat of the neighborhood "get together" pounds at my scull. "William Shakespeare is by far the world's most widely known and appreciated playwright..." The textbook sits next to me, seeming to take up my entire bedroom. I can't focus on anything with all this stupid music. I reach for the mug of cold coffee sitting on my bedside table and pound it back. I grimace at the cold bitterness as it slides down my tongue. The clock reads 3:17am. I can't keep up like this. I pull out a notebook and a pen. I'm sure they must be going deaf at that party by now. My pen drags across the paper aimlessly as I watch my perfect report card vanish before my eyes. I never liked parties.
I have a passion for art and an overactive imagination.
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