Birthday Masacre
Dear Die-ary
Fucking GOD. Fucking G-O-D. I remembered that tomorrow was my ever so once in a year, annual date of birth.
How amazing the flight of time could be so speedy in its take. I wonder how the marking of my sixteenth year on this earth could be that fast. Fucking GOD. FUCKING G-O-D.
I don’t expect gifts, being sixteen, the presents started to decline ever since I was thirteen, don’t expect the rainshowers anymore. Not even on Christmas night, because everyone is too busy loving my brother and sister.
It really sucking to be in the middle.
Fucking G-O-D.
I am so going to look at some gay pictures right now.
Earnest Berlin
