Okay, okay. I kind of lied. I know I said that I wouldn't write in here anymore, but it's just, well… it's kind of pleasant to write down what I think. It feels like someone cares, and I just… I'm happy.
Well, happy is an overstatement.
I'm not, like… happy enough to go out and, like, buy a dog. Is that what happy people do? I'm not sure…
My version of happy is… I can smile and not make it seem plastic, fake. Actually, I've been smiling a lot, and those smiles aren't forced. They're real, because y'know, I'm happy. That's odd for someone like me, because everybody expects someone that's a complete freak to always be miserable and have no friends, no one to talk to.
My journal is who I can talk to. Yeah. That sounds kinda pathetic, though.
What to write about now… Oh! I'm trying to scrape together some money to buy a really nice acoustic guitar for the boy that always sits in the corner of my bedroom. I know he plays guitar, because, yeah, I listen to him whenever we used to talk during our little sessions at the record store, where I work at… and I know he already has a guitar, but it's an electric one, and he can't play that in my house, because Mama will hear, and because it's at his house, and I can't go back to his house, 'cause, well, I fucking kidnapped him, and I don't think his mom will look too kindly on seeing her son's captor. So, I'm just going to buy him an acoustic.
Haha, I bet he doesn't even know I'm writing about him, plotting out what I'm going to get him.
Shit, he's staring at me.
Okay, I'm stupid. I just waved at him, and then just looked back down at this fucking book.
I'm a fucking idiot!
I totally did not just bang my head against my book. Yeah. I don't do that kind of stuff.
Onto the topic of him again, he seems really bored just sitting over there. I wonder what he does all day. I don't let him have any freedom… I bet he's looked through all my possessions. Well, good. I'm glad. Now, he knows if we ever get intimate, I have lubricant in the bottom drawer of my dresser.
I'm blushing. I'm a fucking idiot. Gargh.
I have a headache now, because I… well, I totally didn't just bang my head against the notebook again. I don't do that kind of stuff, man.
What do you think I am?
Crazy?