6:15 am. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Ring, ring, ring. I carry my phone. Every morning is the same. With my eyes half open, I snooze the alarm on my phone which is cradled in my hand, because I can’t shut my eyes at 2 am without it. I carry my phone with me throughout the darkest hours of the night, throughout my dreams. It travels with my mind. It’s sick, I’m corrupted. But I guess by now, who isn’t?

6:20 am. I carry my stress, about the stress, that I will hold in the near future. As I lay half conscious, part of my mind fights to get back to dreamland, and the other part yells at me to just get up already.  I think about the day to come. All the things I’ll have to do today, all the words I’ll have to write, all the problems I’ll have to solve, all the people I’ll have to see. As the stress flows through my body and as I carry the strain, I stop the yelling and I doze it away. I tell myself every night before bed that I won’t fall back asleep, but who really wants to wake up 40 minutes before they absolutely have to?

6:45 am. I carry my ambition. My alarm goes off for the third time, and the stressful tension comes right back into my grasp. Switching sides of my body, I glimpse at the photographs hanging on my wall. Pride cascades over me, acknowledging that I myself took all forty two of the photographs hanging up there. I love my work, I love the images I create. They remind me that I can make myself happy, that I myself can add positive feelings to my aura.  Isn’t that what all artists desire? This sense of self-honor helps to sweep away my stress, but not my drowsiness.

6: 55 am. Finally forcing myself out of bed, I carry my weight.I look in the mirror, wishing I was carrying twenty less pounds of it. Doesn’t everyone wish that? I go to my closet, pick out a few potential outfits, but hate all of them as I try them on. They would look better on a skinnier me,I say to myself, every time I put a new outfit on. I try on three things more, but of course, always end up in the original one I had picked out.

7:15 am. I rush to the bathroom and get ready as fast as I can. I stare in the mirror, but this time I judge the face, not the body. I still carry my insecurity. I stare, wishing to cover everything. The pimple on my forehead, the scar on my lip, the beauty mark below my nose. I carry my wanting for perfection.  As I leave the bathroom, I carry a small pouch to bring to my backpack. It contains a few makeup products, incase I need to touch up anything that goes wrong on my face, because doesn’t every girl need to look her best when she’s out?

7:25 am. My mother yells out to me to say goodbye and “I love you”. I carry my appreciation. Although I sometimes feel a desire to have two parents, my feeling of gratitude of having only one is always more dense. I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have two parents. What do they do when their parents are fighting? Do kids in “normal families” have a favorite parent? What is like to live in a family with not one, but two incomes?  She has raised me on her own, and her selfless, undying love and care makes up for the lack of having another.

7:27 am. I carry my backpack. A black, North Face backpack with a supportive back brace, the bag that everyone now has. Do people get it because it’s good for their back and they don’t want scoliosis, or because they want to fit in? As I walk to the bus stop, my body adjusts to the extra weight that I now carry.

7:28 am. Feeling the residue of my toothpaste lingering in my mouth, I bring my bag around to the front of me. I carry not one, but two packs of gum. I take a piece from the pack of Orbit Sweet Mint, which I carry strictly for me. I also carry Trident Spearmint, which I don’t like as much. Therefore when people ask me for a piece of a gum, I can give them one, without feeling a loss. I don’t like not sharing, because what comes around goes around, right?

7:30 am. As I reach the bus stop, I carry my headphones. I plug them into my phone, which I’m of course also carrying, and turn on my music to the loudest volume. I use the music to clear my thoughts, to alleviate my surroundings, and to create a relaxed, tranquil environment to spend the rest of my turbulent morning in.