dear peter pan,

and harry potter, and wendy, and ron, and hermione, and captain hook, and lord voldemort, and dumbledore. i'm supposed to write to someone from my childhood. since i already wrote to my mom and sister and me and my dad didn't kick it much and mathew was just a baby, i'm going to write to the only other people i knew. this is mainly because i had no friends. and i'm totally okay with that. because i was a well read individual before most of the kids my age could even spell their last names properly. yes, this is me flipping you off. i didn't need stupid monkey bars because i had neverland, and i didn't need club houses because i had hogwarts. while all of you little ankle biters ran around slurping up your own drool and passing herpes around in the third grade, i was actually learning things. it's a marvel, isn't it? and i don't feel badly for any of you. this is what you get for leaving me out and making fun of me. the ironic part is, you made fun of me because i was more intelligent than you. sadly, because i was so young, i didn't realize that you idiots were insulting yourselves. if i could go back in time, i'd be sure to comfort all of you in the thought that gas stations are always hiring. i'm not where i thought i'd be right now, but i'm getting there. my mom told me today that i need to just pick one of my dreams and roll with it. the only problem with that plan is that my dreams change everyday. right now, i want to go to AUR. tomorrow i may not. but whatever happens, happens. i'm sure you can tell the anger in this letter isn't really toward a bunch of third graders. i'm harboring a lot of rage over other things i refuse to talk about here. so it's nice to take it out on those little bitches. i hope it hurts. btw, thanks for helping raise me harry potter and peter pan. it's always a pleasure. to you other bitches, suck a dick.
-b.