Preparing for social-life suicide
There’s something immensely therapeutic about writing in your diary while you’re sitting on the toilet. This is something I have discovered within the last few weeks. It’s just nice.
I’m going to a Christmas party tonight as a sort of reunion for old students… all my former teachers will be there… this is going to be so fucking awkward… and my mission for tonight is to be mega fucking hot and be all like cold shoulder, hmm hmm snap snap. <-- I’m trying to be ghetto, if you couldn’t figure that out.
So after tonight I might be ready to die, I mean all of my teachers and me drunk… this is bound to get embarrassing and humiliating. Oh well what’s life if you don’t live it, right?
(If I get the chance I'm gonna go all kinds of crazy on my former english teachers dick yo, I mean c'mon he's major hot) <- you never heard me say that.