December 25th, 1986 - Van Nuys.

Merry Christmas.

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 I ruin their fucking 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. Welcome to my fucking life.

Nobody would believe the shit that happens in my head, it´s haunted.
Now that I´ve come down from the drugs
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.