I got out of bed really early because my mom was yelling at me.
I feel unusual because my antidepressants are making me hairy.
I'm so stoned.
Last night I had to masturbate twenty times. I'm so horny. Click here to see my website.
I want to tell the world that I love you all! You're all so special to me!
I am sharpening my knives before I go to work today, because I'm going to cut out Robert's heart and feed it to him for losing my mail.
Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! I'm so ugly. Don't look at my photos pleeeeeze.
I want to say thanks to the world for absolutely fucking nothing! You all suck. I feel so alone, no one ever reads this journal, or even comments to let me know that I'm not suffering alone. It's cold here, and I want to die, but I cannot figure out how many of you to take with me when I go.
I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have a terrible skin disease which prevents me from coming into contact with other human beings. And bipolar disorder.
You should all do this quiz! It's amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you you're a moron.
I've also been diagnosed with (thanks to Jab for showing me this) ....
|Doctor Unheimlich has diagnosed me with|
|Cause:||watching too much television|
|Symptoms:||moodiness, bleeding gums, cranial bloating|
That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with this poem I wrote. It's about my friend Robert, who has bipolar disorder. Just like me. And Heidi.
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