graceland's Diaryland Diary

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Laying down for the day

It's almost 9am on Sunday, I'm up from the night before and I just found scratch marks on my boobs. The scratch marks were initialling alarming, until I figured out that they were from the 6am illegal game of poker I got into after hours at a bar, during which time I accused the bartender of being a card counter and had the dealer switched. I stuffed my winnings into my bra after each round, the bills gave me paper cuts in my cleavage.

I wasn't doing any drugs, there's no reason for me to be up like this, that's just how I am.

I found out tonight that my bartender friend and this guy I am friends with had a convo about me after I ledt Friday night. Apparently, they think that I am on an emotionaly rollarcoaster and they aren't coming on for a ride. They asked me why I'm on the rollar coaster, what's going on, and I had nothing to tell them. Even if I were a talker, how would I even begin? I couldn't even imagine starting to talk about my complicatiosn in my diary let alone real life.

For the record, I don't think I am an emotional rollar coaster. I am simply an infectious good time. And for some reason, neither of them can accept that.

F it. I need to sleep.

8:48 a.m. - 2004-01-25

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