Prim and Rose

I don’t know what the fuck I mean by that subject line. It just seemed like the thing to say, I guess. What’s new in the land of OpenDiary? It’s the same usual shit here. Whatever that means. I’m confused, but not in a sad way. Sad is not my bag tonight. It’s Jack’s bag tonight, thank you very much.

Bills. I hate bills. I hate being grown. I hate everything, don’t I? Don’t even ask if I hate me. You should know the answer to that one by now.

Tiffany….good
Elisabeth….well, I’ll just say I would like to talk to her, but I probably shouldn’t

I miss Tiffany already. Yes, even I have feelings, you know? It’s not like I don’t have a heart, man. I do. I just hide it better when I’m pissed off. Kinda like when we first met Kevin, the way he was. Thank God he changed. Now let’s see if I can.

I’m screaming on the inside but quiet outside. Don’t know why I’m screaming, necessarily; just am. It seems like the thing to do, I guess. I don’t really fucking know. I told you I’m confused. Now you see what I mean? If you do, please point it out to me, because I’m not sure I get it.

Bomber is hyper. He’s the cat, by the way. Bandit, the miracle dog, is doing ok. Goldie, her poor sister, is not. I am afraid Goldie will die. I hope not. I hate it when our pets die. Fuck me running, it doesn’t seem to matter if I like it or not. Well, technically, I guess it doesn’t.

Hell.

Y’all be good, I guess. If you want to.

O