Today was really tiring.
I got out of bed really early because I had terrible stomach cramps.
I feel unusual because my antidepressants are making me hairy.
I'm so hardcore. Me and Buzz went to the mall today, and I stole a whole heap of stuff. I got a Good Charlotte CD, a couple of DVDs and some new boots. Buzz got caught, but he fought his way out, and then we stole some lady's car and smashed it into a phone booth.
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.
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 what your favourite sexual position is.
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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