More Journal Entries from 12 Years Old!
In case you had forgotten, I recently found my journal for an English class when I was 12 years old. I quickly figured out that the teacher read nothing of what I wrote. Here is how I exploited it:
One day, I went next door. They are wolves. The ate my cousin, but he was too nasty, so they threw him up. He made a happy dance up. Then they slashed him to bits. He made great puppy chow. My dog grew up big and muscular.
Some of these are uncomfortably violent, like the above entry. MAYBE A TEACHER SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR WARNING SIGNS OF FUTURE UNREST IN THE WRITINGS OF HER PUPILS.
I want to be famous for being a great nonsense writer. If you read my free writes (Whitener, Stephen J., TJ, and Master george), you will understand what I mean. They make no sense at all, but reflects on …my inner feelings, (Whatever that means!). It would be great to share these joyful entries with the rest of the outside world.
Well at least I was self-aware enough to know they made no sense.
Tomorrow I am going to fly, like a bird in the sky, up so high. It will be excilarating. Then chickens will pilot jets and crash onto a butchery, and we will have a bunch of fried chicken. I will take credit of course. It will be called the first good airplane food. Ha-Ha, He-He. Jason made a funny.
Jesus, even the way I write out my laughs is creepy.
Reading is very bably. Bably means impish. If you don’t like that, you can say it’s a bunch of jibberish. I like the word jibberish. Jibberish, jibberish, jibberish, jibberish. Pantalones are pants in Spanish. I like spanish chicken. Yum! It really tastes good. It is really good for you too.
I guess I really stopped giving a fuck at this point.
I GET CONFRONTATIONAL WITH MY TEACHER IN THIS ONE:
I don’t want anyone to walk in my moccasins. The only time that I might is if I had a really bad report card. That would be a very good time to do that. Then they wouldn’t think that everything was go…ing wrong in that class.
I hope that you sometimes read certain journals. It doesn’t seem like you do.
Well, ok, more passive aggressive than confrontational, but still!
Once upon a time, there was a young boy. He was a very naughty boy, but around the holidays, he tried to clean up his act. One day, after supper, the little boy and his mother went to the mall to see “Santa”. Just as he was walking up the walkway, something bubbled in his stomach. Aw man, he thought, I shouldn’t have had that 3rd bowl of chili. So when “Santa” asked what he wanted for Christmas, he said, “Not this!” Then he farted on him. “Santa” died instantly. Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha!
Ughghgh stop fake laughing like that, 12 year old me, it’s really unsettling.
Alright, that’ll be all for today.