This one is good:

Today was really tiring.

I got out of bed really late because my alarm clock has broken and I cannot afford a new one at the moment.

I feel unusual because my antidepressants are making me hairy.

I'm so sad. My kitten got run over this afternoon. I found him when I was coming home from school. His head was all squished. I took some photos. I'll miss him. Poor kitty.

Last night I had to go and pay Joshua's bail. He's such a jerk. He got arrested for punching the Walmart clerk in the face for refusing to sell him beer. He's only 16!

I want to tell the world to get fucked.

I am updating this journal for the first time in ages, because I've been in prison.

Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! But I don't know how to work it. Can you help me?

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 bipolar disorder, and should stop smoking drugs.

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.

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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