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Post by Logan Sloan on Jan 21, 2008 22:12:33 GMT -5
January Twenty-First
Required? This is a dictatorship. These doctors better get off their high fucking horses because I am not doing this shit three times a day. Writing about feelings? That's for pussies.
It's been two fucking weeks since my incarceration and I haven't so much as made a friend in this dump. I'm starting to feel like I really am alone wherever I go. |
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Post by Logan Sloan on Jan 28, 2008 22:04:51 GMT -5
January Twenty-Eighth
A whole fucking week. They were pretty pissed that I've only been pretending to write feelings and sappy shit about my experience here. How the fuck am I suppose to feel? I've been going through withdrawls, they won't let me see my friends, my parents have to come in every other day, it's pure torture. And I'm suppose to feel enlightened and glad that I'm still alive for this? Yeah, right.
I have yet to meet anyone who understands how I feel, and will hate everyone else until that person arrives here in handcuffs. |
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 2, 2008 23:46:56 GMT -5
February Second
I guess I'm suppose to write about the people I've met, so I will. Three girls and one boy. Four people. That has been the whole of my social outreach as of right now. I met Hayley first. I was walking through the hall and I heard her throw a book. That started our first conversation. Then I met Abigail in the hallway and told her all about the drug deals and Tommy and the hit he has out on me. Then that other girl, who's not completely there. She deserves to be here. And then the new boy, Aaron. I heard a lot about him before he even came in. He's a user, like me, but heavier. They put us in the same fucking room. That's a joke. This whole thing is a joke.
JOKE JOKE JOKE JOKE JOKE JOKE JOKE. |
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