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January 28, 2011
When I was six, I wanted to live it a light bulb. I used to think that the glass was illuminated, and so, in my mind, I had a house with walls that glowed. My sister said it would be too bright. My mother explained that light bulbs are lit by a wire inside them. My father told me to go back to bed. My brother rolled his eyes.

I didn't care. I wanted to live in a light bulb, and no one was going to take that away from me. So I covered my walls in hopes and stars.