(A/N I thought it was amusing. Sort of I guess. I was debating whether to or not to say who was writing but telling won out...sigh)

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Dear Diary,
I came to the Xavier Institute looking for acceptance. I was so stifled in that environment that I had to leave. I'm not quite sure why, but I couldn't write while I was there. Maybe it was to perfect....yeah everybody had problems, but everything seemed to be solved with a hearty slap on the back and a few comforting words.

The only ones in that place whose problems seemed worthwhile were Kurt and Rogue, but even Rogue makes me cringe. You see no matter what she thinks she wears ALL her frickin' problems on her sleeve. Oh I am in love with Scott, of dear I don't know who my real mother is so I have to be dark, moody and a bitch. The only thing she's got going for her is the fact that she can't touch people so I give her a little credit. Oh well at least she is a semi-decent Goth compared to a ton of these bandwagon nitwits.

Now Kurt he is a guy I can respect, he gets pissed every so often yet can be so optimistic. He's the kind of guys whose mind I just want to pick apart (not literally of course) to mind out what's really going on. I mean everyone knows he hates the way he looks because of how everyone reacts, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it's something more... plus he is kind of cute even in his fuzzy form.

Do you know how HARD it is to write without inspiration? And guess what my inspiration comes from all the bad stuff in the world (like lots of peoples I'd assume) being stuck in that place with only Rogue and Kurt as my only fuel sources got really hectic. So I booked, heading for the Brotherhood's place.

Now there is angst city! Alright they don't complain about their problems more than about the lack of food, but it just oozes of the torn walls. I found my muses, and getting them to let my stay won't be too tough, All I had to do was bat my eyes prettily at Lance and the self-appointed leader he is, told the guys I stayed or else the house was going to be rocked...I think that was the rock pun he used this time...

Now my writing is going great, I get the occasional pity party from the X-me...er...X-geeks and they send money and food. So pretty much everything is going well. Except of course the grim and not enough showers in this place, but who cares? The moment I get my novel published and make some money I get us a new place.

Isn't life funny?

Kitty Pryde

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(A/N Questions, comments, suggestions?)