Katie, 18, superwhoavengepotterlockian.

I love:

Caffè latte, books, isolation, company, my father, the silvery-surreal look of underwater bubbles. The invincible feeling driving fast at night. Songs that make me sob, tea, lists, hidden notes, cream-of-tomato soup. Spoken word poetry, silence, late nights, brilliant cinematography, pounding music, paper stars, snow, dark jeans, being outside at midnight. Day hikes, duvets, camping, suspending disbelief, guitars, pouring rain, woolly jumpers, the smell of new countries. Darkness, tears, red wine, kissing, theatre, Malibu. Dresses, quirky personalities, writing, touching foreheads, laughter, one-track-minds, piano, Wellies, new friends, stargazing, honesty, nail varnish, socks, hugs. Freckles, olives, pine wood, long journeys, photographs. The smell of books, a certain boy, mathematics, grandparents, beauty that makes itself noticed, violins, the look of a complex score of written music, the sound of an oboe.

I hate:

Al dente pasta, mornings, ice cream, guilt, hot feet, hairbrushes, revision, my stomach. Messy handwriting, trying to sleep, mashed potato, being reprimanded, insects, essays. Losing. My over-competitive nature, a person's inability to take criticism, cake icing, being too hot, my clarinet. The sound of digital alarms, thick curtains, sudden loud noises, bagels. Easter, toe-stubbing, ignorance. Shopping, stress, lumpy pillows, the unrelentless ticking of clocks, breaking things, hats. Inequality, UCAS forms, white wine, raisins in any cake, faked naïvety.