03.17.94 - First Entry

Well, my Council appointed therapist thinks this damn journal will help me get my "feelings out". I think I'd like to ring his prissy neck, but that's besides the point. The way I see it, nothing can help. Less than a month ago my world fell apart. How could they expect me to forget it all and pick up the pieces of my life without another thought?


I am sick of the council and I can't even stand being in my apartment anymore, let alone London itself. There are too many things haunting me - too many things that may as well never existed. Sometimes I think I dreamed every beautiful moment of it.

Perhaps I'll jump into some large hole and die of starvation. Of course I'm kidding - at least sort of kidding. Anyway, I think if I write anymore I may suddenly have some kind of crazy bi-polar episode where I'm crying and laughing at the same time.

I'll try to be a bit more cheery next time.