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i went to the store and bought myself

so you know what's really fucking pathetic? when you look back and read all your old diaries, not because you want to but because you have to try and find something that will make the people chuckle and something they will find nostolgic and sentimental. meanwhile, looking through these entries makes me wanna puke inside my mouth because most of the shit i used to write about is so fucking sad and pathetic. but this is my life not someone else's. and then what do you know i pick up my diary from recent days and re read what i've written and guess what? i'm still as sad and pathetic and almost the same exact girl i've always been, to a T, forever. i guess an upside to this is i see myself and dont have to keep doing it. because one day yes yes one day i will look back on these days and i will want to kill myself for being so fucking stupid and treating myself so horribly.

why can't i stop doing this? why do i constantly torture myself? my diary isn't special. it is just like yours, just like everyone else's. only i choose to write it all down, and then, i choose to show it to you.

it's like, 'here look someone just raped me! do you wanna see what it looks like??" like if the world doesn't see, its like it doesn't even happen. hellloooo wtf is that about? who do i think i am? why this constant need for attention. like wow i'm going to kill myself but i need an audience so come watch the lesley show. tonight she is going to publicly get totally stoops in charge.

wanna watch? wanna come?

11:11 a.m. - 2004-10-27

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