These WordsMature

THESE WORDS.

Dear Diary, 07/08/2008
A letter was posted through my door today. I opened it, and written in beautiful calligraphy were the words "These words". Kids nowadays need to get some more imagination, i mean, seriously now. What the fuck is this meant to mean to me?

Dear Diary, 08/08/2008
08/08/08 huh. What a day to be fired.

Dear Diary, 09/08/2008
Spent all day looking for a job. Guys came to take the trash, and for once took all of the stuff that i set out. I guess things are looking up for once. Got a smoothie from the shop down the road, but it tasted funny. Too much salt. Why the fuck would you put salt in a smoothie anyway?

Dear Diary, 10/08/2008
Got a job interview, Newsagent's down the road. Turns out nothing happens when i spend my entire day looking through newspapers for vacancies, but when i go to the shop for headache pills, i get a job offer instead.

Dear Diary, 11/08/2008
Had to cancel the job interview (which was set for today) because everything was black and white when i woke up. Optometrist appointment booked for tomorrow, but i've got a the mother of all headaches to keep me company until then.

Dear Diary, 12/08/2008
Turns out nothing is wrong with my eyes. However, when i fell asleep on the bus home, i woke up with 4 less teeth. What the fuck.

Dear Diary, 13/08/2008
Nothing wrong with my eyes, huh? Well everything is STILL black and white. And my eyes aren't even different shades of grey in the mirror. They're black. Just black. Another optometrist appointment.

Dear Diary, 14/08/2008
Optometrist is "busy all day". Busy all fucking day, huh? The shop was EMPTY. Decided to give my whole body a checkout today. Here's a lovely list of what's up. My hands are bony. My fingernails won't stop growing. My eyes are black. People cross the street to avoid me.

Dear Diary, 15/08/2008
Went for a walk to clear my head. Turns out, the roads were all clear too. Noone there. absolutely noone. I tried to write a message, but outside of this diary, i can't write a thing except the word "words."

Dear Diary, 16/08/2008
My eyes have shrunk into my skull. My mouth has widened. I'm losing my vision. I see things in the shadows clearly and at night i can see like it's day, but in the day i see like it's nighttime. My nails are too long.

Dear Diary, 17/08/2008
I haven't eaten for four days, but i don't want any food. I can't see in the daytime.

Dear Diary, 18/08/2008
There was a man on the streets today. i waited Behind the door of my house until he went past. then i crept up behind him and made him jump. he was delicious.

Dear Diary, 19/08/2008
I know now i have become something more than a man, but i don't care. More people started walking along my street. one, two, three nutritious meals.

Dear Diary, 20/08/2008
i saw another like me today, crouched in the doorway of my house. I asked him who he was, and he looked nup at me with his no-eyes. He asked me if i knew how i had become like him. I said i did not know. He nodded, and we hunted. one, two, three.

Dear Diary, 21/08/2008
He asked me if i wanted to know today. I didn't. we sat on a rooftop and dropped onto men below. one, two, three. I haven't forgotten how to write.

Dear Diary, 22/08/2008
I asked him today. I told him i wanted to know, and he said "You read." i asked him what, and he handed me a letter. I opened it, and in the middle of the page, in clear, black type was: "These words"

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