Dear Diary

I know that everyone hates me because someone put a note in my locker saying the worst, meanest things I have ever heard anyone say to me. It was unsigned but I know it was from Sheryl. Gabe told me he saw my friends at seventh period writing the note. They made fun of my likeness of pigs. I think pigs are adorable. They also jammed my locker. Why? I do not know but why don't I say anything and fight back? Because I am stupid, ugly, obnoxious and I hate myself. I wish I was never born! I wish that me and my family would be together and all the mean people would die. I am so fucking pissed I never want to go to school again. I don't believe in God anymore because he never helps me. Why are they like this? I need professional help. I hated my psychiatrist but now I don't really care. Why me? P.S. The war has just ended in the world. It has just started in my life.

Remember sixth grade when there was that really popular girl who all of a sudden went from hero to zero? Yup, that was me. Total Dawn Wiener steez. All of a sudden it was my name that was scrawled on the bathroom walls ("BARFIN ARFIN" was a big one) and even the little daisies that my mother had sewn onto my jean shorts couldn't make me cool again. Lunch stopped being a playpen and things started getting really fucking scary. Someone pulling the chair out from underneath my ass became a reality and, dude, that shit does not rule! My ass got kicked daily by Carolyn Goldberg, who I think may be a lesbian now in Wisconsin. Kudos, C-dog. Oh, and Sheryl, I think she lives in Florida and probably talks about how to quit smoking and health insurance. After a while I got used to the feeling of being pinned against lockers. Maybe I even liked it? (For some reason being pinned against a wall is relaxing—it's like, I don't have to do anything, kind of like being carried around in a stroller.) But hey, no sweat. Thanks to hate I discovered the seedy underbelly of Long Island. I found the girls who traveled in packs: Shannon Briggs had bad skin and wasn't afraid to spit on the ground and Ally Sklover had my back no matter what. Thanks to hate, anger, suppressed feelings, and fear, I went from a midget horse to prize-winning show pony (or perhaps future serial killer). My ass got kicked to greener pastures where people are loyal no matter what and the music is turned up to 10 and you live everyday like it's your last. So do whatever you want and fuck the world and hate the world and know this: The world won't hate you back. Get it tattooed on your lips and smile big for everyone.