Dear Diary

Charlie Jennings (FEMALE, guys, OK?!) has decided to keep a diary. Will she keep it up? Probably not. What will she say? Boring things. Do you want to get involved? Maybe!

I have decided to keep a diary. I'm not at all sure why. Several times in the past I've tried to keep a diary. And failed. I'm not at all sure why that is, either.

Your first impressions of me, Diary, are probably of an unknowledegable person. Oh, contrare! I am very knowledgeable about some things. How to eat spaghetti, for instance. People tell me I'm very good at that. They also tell me I'm funny - sometimes I make people laugh and I don't even know why they're doing it! Honestly, I think I should be a comedian.

Or perhaps not. Maybe you would give me your opinion, Diary?

Now I'm talking to a book. Is that a good sign, do you think?

And I've done it again. Definitely a bad sign.

Anyway, encased within these rather rough and very cheap pages - OUCH! Is this how you repay me, Oh Diary?! Darn, it's bleeding. I might need a plaster for this thing...

My blood's very red. Have you ever noticed that? I mean, in books and everything they say 'as red as blood', but this is really red red. You know? Bright. Like a tomato. Except it's blood. Obviously. I wouldn't have tomatoes coming out of my finger, would I? No. Not unless I was a sick mutated thing...

Anyway. Again. Encased within these pages will be all my hopes, dreams, desires...

They really big it up on the backs of these books, don't they? And then I try doing it, and it just sounds pathetic. Maybe you need a diploma in Exaggerating... I might have to practice...

So. I'm Charlie Jennings. And, yes, I'm female. Get it right. I also have very short hair, in what my friends tell me is a pixie cut, although I don't really care what it's called, I just think it looks cool. I'm sixteen, which means I can have sex, but I can't drive yet. What a bummer.

And yeah. That's about me. Seeya around!

The End

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