I want to be sad on the beach with my head in the sand. I want to be outside. I want to be in the warmth. I want to walk around knowing I have money in my bank account. They’ve all made it but me. Perfume Genius hates bitterness. Does that mean he hates me?

I want to go to Spain and have a baby. I want my baby to speak Catalan English and Spanish. I want to feel happy.

I want to swim in the Mediterranean Sea. I want it to always be summer. I want to drift along with the placid salt water. Safely carried, never sinking.

I want my breasts to become removable. I want to take them off now. I want to put them back on so I can feed my baby. I want to take them off again. I want to put them back on for my other baby. I want to take them off again, this time for good.

I want to afford everything.