When I grow up I will be a hippie. I will live in a green van with purple stripes and have a disco ball on my ceiling that will sparkle all around that tiny bedroom, living room, kitchen, and entry-way all rolled into one. I will live in the woods when it’s summer time and in the winter I will stand on the street in a fluffy parka and play my portable piano for whoever has a dime to spare. Except it won’t just be dimes because I will travel the whole world and go to every single country except Antarctica because that is too cold. Sometimes, when I’m feeling nice, I will hand out peace necklaces that are solid fake-gold.
I will grow out my hair to my knees and dye it rainbow every-other-once-in-a-while. And I will write a best selling book that is an autobiography. I don’t have a name for it yet, though. And when I’m done I will get a house in Peru.