Dear Journal,
Sometimes feels like fatty fatty Fathia from the village is sitting on me. I try and suck in air but it just doesn’t work. Mumma thinks I am getting the winter freeze in my chest and makes me drink these yucky teas that taste like dirt and perkles. They make me want to perkle… but she says I have to drink them or I might not be able to sing proper for a long time.
Sing lessons now have turned into more Vandagan lessons which is boring. Why do I need to learn Vandagan when I have Mumma and Pappa to tell me what people are saying? Silly Mumma, Silly Pappa. Oh well, at least they don’t make me bark like trying to sing does.
Gwen.
