Dear Journal,

Okay, so I promised I wouldn't steal you unless I was traumatized yet again and I needed therapy really, really badly. My poor eyes have seen yet another sight that my own mind cannot handle. I'm surprised they haven't burst into flames and fallen out, leaving me blind for the rest of eternity! My poor, poor eyeballs...

So, I was outside playing some good old B-Ball with the neighborhood kids. Just an innocent game. And what do you know? My bladder is all like, "Yo, Dante! I'M FULL! DRAIN MY LIQUID!" And I can't deny my bladder because once in school, my teacher said it wpild EXPLODE! So it's pretty much a fucking bomb. Yeah. I've got a bomb inside of me. Really insane. But who am I to judge the human body? I am half human myself. Which means my bladder is a bomb, so when it tells me it is full I must obey like the partial human that I am.

So I reassure my bladder via brainwaves ("Right! I'm on it!") and tell the guys that I'll be right back cause, well, nature calls, and with that, I hop on my bike and pedal back home. The closest bathroom is the basement one, so I go through the metal cellar doors on the side rather than actually going inside; it was easier and I didn't have to feel bad when I had to evade Mom because of my bladder issues. (Sometimes it gets really angry when I have to stop to talk to Mom so it throws a tantrum, making me split from her really fast to the nearest bathroom and she hates it when I do that.) I didn't notice the light under the bathroom door because the lights in the basement were on, but that was normal since Vergil liked to come down ehre to read. It was a lot cooler than upstairs, and since we didn't spend a lot of time down here for any particular reason he was able to pile books crazily, and seeing these Crazy Book Piles on the couch told me I was right. Only, I figured he went upstairs to get a snack or some water.

With that thought on my mind, I thoughtlessly walked straight into the bathroom, where Vergil was sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles, ERECTION in hand, and a book open on his knees. Yeah, I know! The damn bookworm reads as he masturbates! If I wasn't so horrified from the sight of Vergil jacking off I probably would have laughed at him. But of course, all I could do was scream and run back out into the backyard. Yelling the whole time of course. (My bladder was screaming too. That's how gross and scary it was. Either that or it was just really mad at me, so I "drained my liquid" on a tree just in case.)

So now I'm traumatized TWICE which means extra, extra, EXTRA therapy and brain surgery. Looks like I'm going to need a very good paying job when I grow up.

Anyways, I should probably go laugh at Vergil for reading whil getting off, the weirdo. It's payback for my mental scars.

Later,

DANTE.