Things I Want That Are Wrong

  1. To be a smoker. I don’t want the lung cancer or the bad breath or the yellow nails, but I secretly want to be a smoker. Some dark, smoking form, keen and sharp. I want to click open a lighter while leaning casually against a wall, smoke enveloping me seductively like I was a leading lady in film noir.
  2. Candles in my dorm.
  3. To be an art model. This goes against everything I’ve ever said about the violence of the gaze on the feminine form. But I don’t know.
  4. The ability to eat copious amounts of play-dough without fear of germs or nausea.
  5. My advisor.

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