I’m Through

I’m through with this.  Even when I paint it in simple black and white, I’m misunderstood.  Well, frankly, Ken, guess what?  You don’t know sh*t about me, either, so don’t you dare tell me what I can and cannot think, write, feel, or judge about anyone or anything.  If you’re going to misunderstand what I write in here as badly as you did to leave that four or five part note, then you have no right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t think about you.  Frankly, I couldn’t give a damn right now who you are, what you do to kill your body, brain cells, health, or anything else.  I said in here why I wrote those entries, and I told Melanie why I wrote them, so I don’t know why I’m wasting my time trying to prove it to you here.

Yeah, I’m extremely pissed off, because you act like I was personally attacking you in that last entry when all I was doing was voicing my opinion about ANYONE who smokes or drinks.  I find both habits extremely disgusting and dangerous, of ANYONE who does them.  But then, you obviously didn’t understand that.  I don’t give a damn if you *enjoy* smoking.  I don’t give a damn that you *drink in moderation.*  I don’t give a damn about your relationship with Melanie.  You can make whatever accomplishments or failures you want, I’m done!  I don’t care, all right?  Are you happy now?  I’m out of your business, and I’ll stay out!

My God, you are a hypocrit, though.  Telling me that anyone should have the freedom to write what they want, without fear of repercussions, but that others should have the freedom to express what they want about what the first person said.  Well, guess what?  What you wrote are the repercussions you claim I should be without!  So, I guess I don’t have that freedom, huh?  Or are you going to say that saying that is judging your motives/reasons why you left these notes in the first place?

Well, you know what?  I don’t regret showing those entries to Melanie, because she made me believe I could.  She told me the day I met that she didn’t feel she had the right to get angry at me for what I wrote because it was what I believed.  I don’t regret showing them to her because it solved more than a few things in my head.  But I regret not getting a new diary after she saw them.  Because obviously, after she was reading them as I was writing them, the right for both of you to get angy at what I wrote somehow seeped in.

I’m sorry, Melanie, if you’re reading this.  I know you’ve been through a Hell of a lot because of your cousin, and I’m sorry for that.  But this is something completely unrelated that I’m just plain sick of.  I’m tired of being attacked for opinons that I’ve written when they’re misunderstood by someone telling me not to judge him when that’s exactly what he’s doing to me.  Just like the, "we’re not close" thing goes, so does, "You don’t know me."

You don’t know ME, either, Ken.  So before you judge, comment, or whatever anything that I’m saying, make sure you know what I’m actually writing about.  And if you don’t, then keep your mouth shut.

This is the end of this diary.  I’ll probably still visit it, read notes from other people, but forget about upkeeping it.  I may not regret showing this one to Melanie in the first place, but I do regret the other people who have seen it because I showed it to her.

–Notes–

Well I just wanted to thank you for the advice you have given to me!! And just tell everyone who questions what you think or say, tell them just to freaking blow ya or eat ya out!! geez, some people make me soo freaking mad!!
Again thanks chica!!