This is a text about nervousness.And fear. And excitement.About wanting to be seen.But not taking too much space. Space. Spaaaaaaace.The desire to be interesting. And intelligent.The good student. The quiet student. The good girl. The shy girl. The ballerina. The nerd. The hardworker. The try-hard.It is about the nervousness that makes you want to cry. And give up. And cancel.It is about fake confidence. Sunglass-bravery. Angry-dancing. Nervousness-confessions. Honesty.It is about writing a new text every third day because someone has an opinion about it. Andexpectations. And assumptions. And your dad compares it to your mothers PhD.It is about attempted artistic writing becoming a diary.It is about shoulds. And coulds.It wants to be about wants. And desires.It is about shame. And identity-crisis. And some more shame.It is about cowardice. Awkwardness. Shitscared. Shitscared. Shit. Scared.It is about being a student for as long as you can remember. A nervous shy good student.It is about being good at not being a good girl.It is about tensed necks. And soccer-socks. And identity. And roles.It is about girls vs boys. And ballet.It is about footnotes and references. And systems. And demands.It is messy. Because life is messy.It wants to make sense. Without too much structure.It is about not wanting to justify everything. It is about ending up trying to justify everything anyway.It is about nervousness. And good girls. That are too good. For their own good.