I am being consumed by boredom. And, in its brief moments of absence, anger rules me. I cannot decide which is worse, wanting to destroy the world, or not feeling a thing when it happens. Atleast, people dislike me a lot less when I'm bored.
I have used the flow of vaginal blood as an excuse long enough. I need to attend one of those anger management classes.

I wish I could say I was unhappy, but I'm not. I have also become horribly nasty and insensitive. I find myself laughing at deaths, violence and the killing of kittens. I wonder how all this will end.


'If its a crime, then I'm guilty . Guilty of dreaming of you.'