Is This Desire?

I knew what I wanted to do forever, have always known that I knew. No big reveal.

In my journal from when I was 11 (dusty-pink pages, then; my Smythson’s are dusty blue; desire never really goes anywhere), I wrote on the first page “I want to write books about real life.” What a li'l chocolate-chip muffin, a "Mmmmuffin," if you will. (First and last…