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Dear diary,

Mum came into my room, and asked suddenly, "Where's your diary?"

After half an hour of trying to understand Physics, I finally understood electric current and the shit related to that, so I was pissed that Mum came and asked me about my diary, of all things so I accidentally replied, "I don't have one."

Mistake. 

Well, technically, I don't. But she wont understand that. So she sat on my bed and spoke to me in a harsh tone, "Why don't you listen to me? I tell stuff for your good, right?"

So I said, "Ma, I'm doing my homework, and besides – "

"No, you listen. I do so much for you and you give me this in return?! What is so hard in writing a diary? Do you know how concerned I am for you? All you want to do is drive me crazy."

"Mum." I almost shouted. She stopped, but fury raged in her eyes. I'd never done this before, interrupting her midway, I mean.

"Mum, I have a diary, but it's in papers, not in a book. I didn't have time to buy one."

Her face softened, but before she could ask where it was, I shouted, "Mum, the phone's ringing!"

She must've gotten sick of me so she left me immediately. 

Okay thank goodness.

Now, done writing this crap, I'm snoozing.

S.


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