That's what people say at Christmas, right?
Except normally they have someone to say it to.
They have friends and family,
And they haven't been crouched naked under a Christmas tree
with a needle in their arm like an insane person in a mansion in Van Nuys.
They're not out of their minds, they're not writing in a diary,
And they're definitely not watching their holiday spirit coagulate in a spoon.
I didn't speak to a single person today.
I figured why should [bad word] their [bad word] Christmas.

I've started a new diary and this time I have a few new reasons.
One, I have no friends left.
Two, so I can read back and remember what I did the day before.
And three, so if I die, at least I leave a nice little suicide note of my life.

It's just me and you, diary. [bad word] to my [bad word] up life.

Nobody would believe the [bad word] that happens in my head, it's haunted.
Now that [bad word] down from the [bad word] it seems like a sick play that I saw in a theater somewhere.
Thirty minutes ago, I could've killed someone.
Or better yet, myself.