Chapter One

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Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Dear Diary.

No, that's stupid.

Hello. I'm Charlie. I'm sixteen. I'm... Talking to an inanimate object.

Okay. This is harder than I thought it would be. I know I'm just supposed to relax and let a stream of consciousness thing happen here but I feel kind of ridiculous.

I'll just start with outlining the purpose of this whole thing and work from there.

This is my diary. I'm starting it because it seemed like the easiest New Year's Resolution to keep for longer than a week. Also I might be important some day and they might want to publish my journals, so I'd better make sure this thing is filled with deep thoughts and new ideas that will reflect my future status as an astronaut/politician/superhero/etc.

As you can see, I'm off to a really good start.

Thursday, December 31, 2015

I almost forgot about this thing already and it's only Day 2. Anyway it's almost 9pm and Anita just texted everyone to say she got her hands on some mushrooms so I guess that's what I'm doing tonight.


Colours are colour. There are Aztec patterns everywhere.

Friday, January 1, 2016

I am never doing mushrooms again. I only had a few but they still made me vomit and even though they all evacuated my system less than twenty minutes after I ate them, I still had a trippy as balls night. I guess it started out okay with the bright colours and seeing weird patterns everywhere but then I started to get really uncomfortable and time slowed right down. Everything else was moving at regular speed, but then I'd check the clock and no time at all would have passed. Lewis told me to drink some regular Coke, because the sugar would help, and I guess it did a little bit, but... I don't know. I can't explain it. I was just really uncomfortable and I wanted it to end. I couldn't stop complaining and I didn't even care that I was ruining it for everyone else.

I think I might be done with hallucinogenics for a while. And I am still annoyed with Anita.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Today my mom took my to the stationery shop to make sure I got everything I need for going back to school on Monday. As if over the two weeks we got off for Christmas all of my pens will have run dry and all of my notebooks will have filled up by themselves.

Worse, there was a really cute guy working there and I got a definite whiff of interest from him before my mom came over and was like, 'Do you have enough clean underwear for the week? Because I won't have time before Monday to do much washing so if we need to go to the drapery tell me now,' and I expired on the spot from mortification.

Sunday, January 3, 2016

I'm really getting into the swing of this journaling business. I suppose in the event anybody does ever want to publish my adolescent ramblings I'll have to heavily edit out the bits about the Class A drugs and especially the bits about my insane mother but for now I think I'm actually enjoying this. Maybe this is the beginning of the rest of my life. Maybe this is why I've had no discernible talents up until now. Maybe I'm supposed to be a writer.

My English teacher Mr Ellison will be so pissed about the consistent B- he gives me once I have a Pulitzer. Some people just don't recognise brilliance.

Monday, January 4, 2016

Uuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhh so early. 7am. Can barely see page through groggy eyes. No sunlight for hours yet.


My farts smell weird today.

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