Obligatory Introduction

Friday, October 26, 10:13 AM

            It seems odd to be writing into this white void without an introduction. I hate beginnings. I especially hate middles and ends though, so perhaps they aren’t all that bad. My name is Stella Luna, and for as long as I can remember I’ve known I’m from outer space. I used to claim as a child I was from Saturn, despite my mother’s photo evidence of her pregnancy. Nothing on earth ever makes sense but it always does in the sky. At night, I love looking up into the sea of black. There is so much activity in the sky when everyone is sleeping. There are stars and planets and whole other worlds out there.

            I am a seventeen-year-old girl, and I understand that alone is enough to make you hate me so just bear with me on this one. I live in Poughkeepsie, New York right now. I’ve lived here for almost 3 months now, which is really odd to think about. I’m very messy and a little bit too apathetic to be a good student or friend. I'm sitting in my dorm listening to Leonard Cohen and I hope it doesn't rain again today.  

Asleep

Friday, October 26, 9:38 AM

            There’s something about Fridays that make me feel so productive. It’s rather counterintuitive but that’s the way my mind works…backwards and all that. On any given weekday I would crumple back into my bed after an 8 AM class but today I went to Hancock and got coffee. They brew Starbucks here but it doesn’t often taste like it. The woman behind the counter is very slow and friendly, in a Mid-West kind of way. It’s unfamiliar to me in any setting but particularly from a barista.

            Today she gave me a coffee card; you know the kind that punches out how many you buy until you get a free one? I felt it kind of unfair that they just instated this policy seeing as I’ve purchased at least enough to fill two of these coffee cards.

            My roommate is asleep as she always is, and I’m trying very carefully to keep my lighting dim. She’s the kind of girl I would’ve been scared to talk to in High School but it’s nice living with her. I see her put her makeup on and I see her take it off. I listen to her endless phone calls to her boyfriend. Sometimes he will call her four or five times at all hours of the night, just to tell her he loves her. When she doesn’t pick up he calls me to make sure she’s safe. I don’t know if this is love or obsession but she’s very infatuated nonetheless.

            Sometimes I sit in front of my desk mirror and think I look rather beautiful. For someone who hates to look in mirrors I spend a lot of time gazing into my own eyes. Whenever I try to look pretty I think I look like I’m trying to be someone else, but when I’m at my desk I’m too preoccupied to bother trying to look beautiful. I make up a story that a boy is watching me while I’m buried in my studies and that usually makes me feel better. It’s weird that you need validation from a boy to feel good. My roommate is very pretty and she laughs all the time, but when her boyfriend calls she sits in her bed crying. I can’t tell if she’s sad or lonely but maybe it’s a bit of both.