I really like Eminem. Really.
I mean, that's what I'm supposed to like. Right?
It was one of the cd's I found in my room, when I was diging through piles of junk. It had my name written on it in permanent marker, so I'm pretty sure it's
something I like.
But whenever I play it, I close my eyes and dream of softer sounds.
Bright has a lot of cd's. Yesterday he picked out a few, and gave them to me, told me that they were mine before, and he had never returned them. I can't bring
myself to listen to them, because I'm afraid that if I do, I won't like them.
I'm supposed to like rap and basketball and girls.
I'm not supposed to have a hidden stash of jazz records in the back of my closet. Or hide comic books inside my Sports Illustrated.
I'm not supposed to want to kiss Ephram Brown.
But I do.
