
Dear Diary: I'm not sure about many things. Damn it, I hate I have to answer that when they ask, but I'm not sure. Do you think I'm weird? If I am, I'm proud. What's "weird" anyway? I don't think I'm weird. I don't think anyone's weird. And I don't give a shit about what anyone might think of me. So, why do I keep it a secret? You know what? I don't care. If I know something is that I can trust my instincts, my impulses. If I suddenly want to tell everyone, then great. I won't confuse it with wanting something else, that I can't do because of this secrecy. However, I need to write this down. Because I want to. Beacuse I had an impulse and started writing. I don't know the end yet. I don't think there'll be one. I'll just write, so I'm sorry for telling you all of this. But oh, dear Diary: I think you'll find it damn interesting, too.All Rights Reserved
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