Wow... I just read through this thing and was thiking... Oh man... It is so impersonal now... I never put down what I'm feeling or thinking or anyhting! i jsut document what I did that day... How boring!!

Why'd I do it? I knew it was wrong, and yet I still did it. That self-destructive streak again... If Clarissa was right and I'm like a Mini Jeanne... I'd seriously hurt myself, physically. I don't think I could face being like jeanne. I sitll think of her and either want to jsut start bawling, or shiver in the leftovers of terror that I felt whenever I was near her... She affected so many people and hurt so many, including me, I don't think I could deal with the consequences I'd have on people with that type of tendency in me. Oh frell. I'm quivering at the moment, jsut thinking about it... Oh my god... Someone tell me I'm not like her, please. Please...

talk about teary. I never cry... Never. Unless completely frustrated, or angry, or... something completely out there. Yet jsut the memory of her makes me cry. And it's not any one thing she did.. It was her presence... I think she was the one who finally made me able to see bad people. Clarissa always asked me why I was dead afraid of her, and I never could answer... She jsut didn't feel right. I never wanted to be left alone with her, and yet always was, because Clarissa was hurt... And because I loved Mouser.... And needed to protect him. Oh geez... what is this? Teary time? No. Mouser and jeanne are in the past. I don't ahve to deal with either of them any more. Enough. Good night.

Geez... I am such a ditz... Whenever I am happy, it always makes me act like a complete moron... I jsut can't seem to get serious. Like, serious conversation don't make me happy, so when I'm in a good mood, I act like a retard... I guess it's my own way of humor, as I'm jsut not very witty or funny or much... Just kinda silly. It makes mes sad when I think about it. All the good stuff I never got to talk about it, being wrapped up in my giddy highs of joy. I mean, I realizenow why people think I'm such a blonde and don't take me seriously. I don't give them a chance. I mean, people who know me really well know jsut how moody and wuickly my temper can turn, but geez... Some people, You completely disregard me as a joke, and make me feel like the reason I hang out with you is so that yuou can feel superior to me. Well, to you, I say, Go to Hell. I'm not a joke, and I have a brain. I may not be the greatest at saying what I mean, but that's jsut me... take it or leave it. And even this whole paragraph dowesn't say what I mean. I jsut can't put words to what I feel deep down. Maybe that's why people find me so shallow-seeming. I don't do it because I know I'm not good at it.