Dear Diary,
It's 6:30 in the morning and I've been up since 3 and some change. I'm sitting on my porch, the sun is coming up and the street light just went out. It's still kinda dark blue overhead, but to the east I can see the horizon starting to change. Huh? You know what? F*** you a**hole. I'm trying to paint a pretty picture for you. A backdrop if you will into my mind at the moment, before I lose it. If there was ever a time to lose it, nows that time. I'm about two and a half hours I'm gonna get something cut out of me. Huh? No I'm not getting liposuction you a**. Where the f*** have you been the last 2 months? They're taking out my thyroid. And before you ask again, no this has nothing to do with my weight loss. I did that the old fashioned way. I started exercising, stopped eating s**t and started talking s**t. Actually I started writing s**t, I always talked it. So f***ing what. Actually, I'm nowhere near losing my mind over this. I have a calm about me that's not so strange. I'm good. But if something bad happens, I just want you to know how I feel. I... I... I'm gonna come back and f***ing haunt you cause I hate you. See you later, on one side or the other, b***h. Huh? No you can't have my stereo.
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