A wishing with heels

I got a Dylan Thomas book from the library today, the one Dylan Thomas collection we have, it’s a black and white cover and very boring; I can’t shake the idea that we might be related even though Thomas is not a very rare last name… but I’m not very Welsh, only a little bit on my dad’s side — there have recently been altercations between me and the Spanish language but don’t worry, Spanish will come out on top, maybe missing a verb tense here and there but that’ll heal in time, the wounds I inflicted aren’ t too serious and the wounds Spanish inflicted appear only in my fingernails and on my report card — perhaps the more violent altercation has taken place between my mother and I, but that’s a matter of opinion and also rather cliche, so I’d rather gloss over that— AP Art Studio has turned out to be the one class I’m worried about my grade in, what’s with that? but it’s to be expected when one in uncharacteristically shy/afraid of one’s teachers… irregardless of the fact that they might be intentionally mean/scary people with a hidden agenda to be critical of your dog paddle when you’re just trying not to drown. Art is far too thick to breathe.


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