Dear Diary,
So, my flat mate got me this as a joke for our secret santa this year. It has a care bear on the front and the flimsiest heart shaped lock you’ve ever seen keeping it closed, but the jokes on her. I like care bears and now I know how to pick a lock with a paperclip (I’ve already lost the key).
Before I left for Uni, my shrink suggested that I start a diary and, quite frankly, last year was hell, so… Why the fuck not give it a go? I’m halfway across the country from my family and have fuck all else to do with my evenings. Why not see if she was onto something?
Besides, it’s rude not to use gifts.
And speaking of gifts, everyone here seems to be obsessed with the idea that ‘life’s a gift that we all have to appreciate’. Really? Like, if it’s a gift, then who gave it to us? How do we use it properly? Where’s the manual? Did anyone get a receipt? Because, quite frankly, the same people that keep insisting that it’s a ‘gift’ keep complaining about how much they hate it.
I don’t wanna become one of those fucks. I wanna figure this shit out, so how about we make a deal? I’ll use you to figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do with my life and you keep my secrets, how does that sound?
Deal?
Yeah?
Cool. That sounds good to me. Yeah, I like that. This feels right. Thanks. You’re a good listener, you know that? Fuck, I just wrote that. I really need to go to bed. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.
Night.
And if you want to hear far more naughty samples of my erotic creations, click here!