• Hah. I feel like an idiot. But then again, don’t I always? Most likely because I am an idiot. Dense. Dim. Thick skulled. Is Journal another word for Diary? Who cares, I’m just another fly on the wall. No one will pay much attention to this. I cant do anything right, now’ a days. Couldn’t do anything right. Why is it that when anything half way decent happens to me I turn it into some horribly horrid thing? I know this might sound childish but after all, I am a child. Poor me, sob sob. Don’t ask me why I pity myself. I have a good life, right? Mom loves me. Family loves me. I have a roof over my head. Schools going good. No health problems. No deaths. Still after noting all the good things in my life I find a reason to cry at night. Sports are starting soon. I have a great reason to do them too, ‘I don’t want to get fat.’ That’s great, hm? I’m quite good at writing about nothing, am I not? I would have rather written a small story or something but all I can think about is my pathetic excuses to hate life.

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