Log 1: Date, October 29th, time, 10:43 p.m.

Intro: I find this to be a rather redundant specification in this venting journal considering it's intentions are to help me cope with my recently diagnosed depression, and stimulate brain activity for my 'lack of motivation' and 'loss of creativity', as well as help my insomnia I suppose, which explains why I'm writing this so late. Regardless, I don't really see a point in telling this inanimate object whom I am or why I'm here, considering, I know this and no one else is going to read it.

Hopefully, my sister won't either but nowadays she finds me too useless to pester, an insult or two about my recent un-closeted homosexuality is tossed around but that's it, she no longer makes it a point to ruin my day considering, '. . .You're [I'm] not worth my [her] time'.

Where to begin. . . well, I haven't really journalled in years, and even so it was to record information on paranormal beings for research, a hobby I gave up long ago. Why I gave it up, well. . . no one believed me and after such a long time, I'm doubting on believing myself and am considering the words of my ignorant peers, I could've been crazy. Over exposure to this sort of stuff as a child could have locked it into my psyche. Though even if they're right it doesn't mean they're intelligent, i.e my mentioning of their ignorance. I'll always be smarter than them, and even though the intelligence is 'un-praised' by terms such as, 'know-it-all' and 'nerd', it'll never be forced away as my previous beliefs were.

Where did the insanity truly begin? Perhaps it was when my father was never around, I'd always praised and respected him for his vast intelligence but growing up and becoming more defiant as a teen I truly understood his intelligence, it was all books and no brain, the sort of, 'intelligence' you see a girl with a gleaming smile and straight A's may have, the sort of intelligence that makes you believe you're smart when really, you're just another ignorant meat-bag with a clouded view of reality and a fear of new things. As a scientist you'd think he'd been open to the thought of my research but he pushed it away with a closed mind, and whether it was because he was ignorant or feared having a crazy son isn't my deduction.

I've already explained my sister, Gaz, a rebel in her own, the type of girl who doesn't give two shits about her family whom tries their hardest for her because on the inside she's just a scared little girl who doesn't

understand the world. She masks it with purple hair dye and cheap eyeliner, parties and coming home late. She used to be okay, I mean she never believed me to begin with but even she knew about. . . him.

Him, better yet, Zim. Zim, the bane of my existence, the reason my father almost forced me into a mental ward at fourteen, perhaps the reason why I'm on so much medication. Because he. . .is an alien. And that I know, I know it with all my heart but, there's just no fucking point to proving it now. Humans are blind and ignorant, and if the aliens do take over, I'll welcome them with open arms knowing that they may just be a little more emotionally, and philosophically intelligent than the useless meatbags here. I would try to befriend Zim, in some ways he's a lot like me I guess, even if we were pointing fingers at each other with blind hatred. . . he was an outcast too. I kind of feel bad, I mean sure he was overly animated, just as I was but I can sort of sympathize the loneliness in his heart.

I mean, from what I know he was exiled to earth from his peers, sort of how I was exiled from society from mine. He doesn't really have any friends, I mean he tolerates Keef, whom has smothered him in unrequited affection since the day they met but that's it, and Keef is rather annoying, an optimist with a.d.h.d and too much time on his hands, though he's somewhat matured. He doesn't really have any family, I mean he has GiR, but GiR irritates the shit out of him, he'll probably snap one day. Then the jokes from peers. . . again there is way too much ugliness in the world especially from outsiders. It's rather sad to see Zim shift from this eccentric kid to such a dull teenager, I'm sure he plots against earth but what other choice does he have?
I feel bad for the guy but he and I don't speak much at all not that we're in 'hi-skool', as the district spells it for god knows what reason.

I don't feel as though I've made any substantial progress, but it's past midnight, and I get to awake in four hours to enter the joy of entering the cattle swarmed halls of hell. . . and knowing Gaz, she'll be home soon

Good night.

Log End: October 30th, 12:06 a.m.