Dear Journal:

Today I was talking with Jamey about her friend Matt. She said that one of his good friends committed suicide so all of them have Mohawks. That’s it. That was all that I needed. I started thinking of how to commit the perfect suicide. Well, I already know how I’ll do it but this made me think of a time. Do you know what time would be perfect? Any fucking day is a great time. Really, what do I have to live for? I was placed in fucking Elementary Algebra with the rest of the fucking morons of the planet. I NEED TO BE IN FUCKING CALCULUS! And I wasn’t fucking around when I said that if I didn’t get my Pharm.D., that I’d commit suicide. I would actually do it. But right now it feels so … normal? No, right now it feels like such a great idea. I’m piss ass broke, I can’t find work, I’m a fucking idiot, I have no one that loves me, I hurt my dog, I fucking smoke pot. I have the ULTIMATE LIFE let me tell you! What the fuck is the point of my being here? To use gas, smoke tobacco and do petty jobs for people? That is fucking lame. Nobody appreciates me right now. Nobody wants to love me. I practically had to BEG boy toy to come over for an Oh Boy! *winks* And at the end of it he could give a flying fuck.

Anyways. I’m going to go to bed. Maybe I’ll cross over later. I’m too … undecided to figure out what I want with life at this precise moment in time.

I Cry to You from the Darkest Depths…Do You Hear My Cry?