My Diary

Entry 57

September 7, 2019
9:05 P.M.
Saturday

I hate my life. What about you? Well, I hope you don't hate your life. Anyway, so I talked to my mom about Sonny and her only excuse is she's having financial trouble. So I told her that I'm tired of that asshole still being in my life and that I'd get a job to help with financial issues. But no. She won't let me. She wants me to "focus on school". Since when did you care about school? No, you're just making up bullshit excuses just to continue having Sonny around. That's not how that works. I'll rather be on the damn streets than in the presence of that dumbass son of a bitch. I just can't with these white trash my parents are dating nowadays. It's fucking disgusting.

So yeah, I'm still alive. Sorry for being so dramatic last entry. That wasn't cool at all. I'm not going to take my own life. No one should in fact. It's the pussy way out and I ain't no pussy. Anyway, this didn't really pissed me off, but it did rub me the wrong way. So last night, I was on YouTube and out of nowhere, dumbass Sonny is calling my name from behind the door so I'm just like, "What the fuck do you want?" Then he's like "Is your trombone in there with you because the neighbors wanna play it" and I'm just like "What the fuck, no. They don't need to play my damn trombone." Like are you telling me if my trombone wasn't in my room, you would of just took it and have everyone put their nasty mouths on my instrument? Are you serious? That is so rude. Like I know Sonny's a complete dick, but come on. You're not going to win my love back this way. Also, ain't it fucked up that I used to like this guy? Like I used to think that he was going to be different and not be like the rest of my mom's boyfriends. BOY, WAS I WRONG? Anyway, I don't play the trombone really anymore. It's been a couple years, but like that is still my instrument and you just don't take it because you wanna play it. Also, trombones are fucking expensive. In fact, all instruments are. The next thing I need is a bunch of dumb potheads handling it and next thing you know, they damage it. Like no. That's not how that works. Fuck off my trombone, okay? Alright.