internal || richie

day 1

dear diary. i think. how do i address you? do i even need to? whatever. eddie bought this for me so i could write stories, because he says i have an 'interesting imagination'. i'm probably gonna write some shit about this summer, with that fucking clown, the missing kids, and all that. i need to get everything out. maybe in 30 years i'll read this and roll my eyes. but hey, fuck you future richie. maybe you'll forget about this summer, but i fucking won't. i made real friends. eddie, ben, bill, mike, beverly, stan. they're like me. losers. we're the losers club.  we stick together. always. we're a family. but anyway, eds hasn't been taking his adhd meds, and he's really been acting up. today he ran over a twig with his bike and insisted we had a funeral for it. a funeral. for a twig.  he broke ben's pattleball the other day, and blamed it on stans face. he also tried to get into the hammock that's in the clubhouse with me when he said it was his turn. he took my glasses off my face with his foot, and then wacked me with his foot. he's such a cuck. but it's okay, he's eds. he's off his meds. all of them. so he's been a bit of a challenge lately, and he's talking about how his medication were "gazebos" and that it means bullshit. i think he means "placebos" when he says "gazebos". he's funny. we've been best friends since kindergarten. bill introduced us. i'm so happy he did. bill is amazing, too. he's like the leader of our group. kinda. you know, i fucked his mom. s̵̶h̵̶e̵̶s̵̶ ̵̶a̵̶ ̵̶b̵̶e̵̶t̵̶t̵̶e̵̶r̵̶ ̵̶k̵̶i̵̶s̵̶s̵̶e̵̶r̵̶ ̵̶t̵̶h̵̶a̵̶n̵̶ ̵̶e̵̶d̵̶d̵̶i̵̶e̵

i should go now, we're having a loser's thanksgiving, and eddie is trying to look over my shoulder. bye.