19 december

i want to raise my voice authoritatively, from its squeal, and say: "no, i am naturally, i am a novelty; i am Hebrew, i am not Caucasian; my eyes are Hazel, they are not Brown; i eat kosherly and read Sylvia Plath; i am still new-bloomed and i am still relevant." (and you, you all turn down your ostentatious head!) but really i am only one out of several hundred prefolded white paper napkins; i am a singularly bland shade of nude lipstick. i brush my teeth of this spectacularity nonsense: i matriculate.