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.