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Description
May 7

Rule One: Avoid human interactions at all costs.  That's what I learned from my parents today.  God dammit, I hate them so much.  I guess they've gotten the best of me is all.  I suppose I'm tired with everything.  That would explain why I dropped out of college and broke up with Kjell.  He proposed, and I said I wouldn't be able to spend the rest of my life with him.  Oh well, that's life; it wasn't his fault anyway.  I was just bored.  I'll never forget what he looked like though.  He towered over me, pale and thin, but I loved him.  Every time I stared into his eyes, I would see icy blue spears- the type of eyes that most girls would shudder at the sight of.  His eyes weren't angelic blue- no; they were icy spikes that bored through peoples' souls.  Maybe thats why I loved him so much.  I was the only one who wasn't afraid of him.  His gorgeous, piercing eyes were nowhere near as scary as his accent.  Im not sure where hes from... somewhere Scandinavian.  He was four inches taller than me at 6'1" and would've done anything for me despite how weak he was at only 142 pounds.  After I broke up with him, I couldn't stand seeing him around campus, so I dropped college and went home to my parents.

I stared at their door a long time before I had the courage to ring the bell.  Its a huge white wooden door.  Towering over me at eleven feet tall, I remain the only one in my family strong enough to open it quickly and with one hand.  I would use the silver knocker, but they tell me it would scratch the door.  That's what I hate about them.  They spend money on unnecessary things just because they can.  The most annoying quality of the door though is that there's a knot in the wood just below the doorknob.  If you're tall enough, you wouldnt be able to see the knot, but its there.  A flawless white door complete with sterling silver doorknob and knocker, and despite the perfectionists they may be, theres a damned knot in the wood.  Smooth vertical white grains of wood rudely interrupted by a black hole.  Jesus Christ! I dont care if its a four and a half million-dollar home; I just want to move so I can have a door that doesnt have a knot!  Which reminds me- Rule 2: If you have the ability to do something good for yourself, do it.  Well I told my parents my story, but they didnt understand.  If you talk to humans, theyll say stupid human things.  They said either go to a psychiatrist or figure out how to solve my problems.  Thats why Im writing here now- I got a journal to record my thoughts.  Rule 3: Psychiatrists are shit.  You will never need one in your life.

Well, Im not sure what to write to a journal.  I guess Ill start by saying hello.  My parents named me Tiffany Elaine Brown.  I would like to tell you that my friends call me Tyler, but I dont have any friends.  The first thing I did when I bought this journal was decorate it.  It started out brown, unfinished leather.  I got bored with that pretty quickly.  The spiral binding is adorned with jewelry that Kjell gave me, including the engagement ring.  My God its beautiful.  Some might say gaudy, others tacky, but I say beautiful.  Its made of diamond.  Nothing else.  From throwing the damn journal around it got sort of tattered at the edges.  As if staples could fix that Oh well, it added an industrial flair to the journal.  My preferred name, Tyler, is on the cover.  I made it out of everything I guess.  The T is made out of a wooden crucifix with the top and part of Jesus head cut off.  The y is made out of feathers from a bird that my cat killed.  Despite the fact that the feathers are a little bloody and disheveled, cardinal feathers are really quite pretty.  The l, e, and r are made out of trinkets and junk that I found on the beach.  I love the beach so much.  Its the only thing I have left.

Well as long as Im kicked out of the house and living on the beach, I might as well decide what Im gonna do for the rest of my life.  Well, lets see.  I dont even know who I want to become.  Well, lets look at the other people on the beach.  Oh god theres this obese woman walking up to me.  Oh I cant help but shudder at the sight of her.  Im intensely afraid of obese people.  They just dont care about their life to such an extent that they let themselves get, well obese.  Rule 4: Never let yourself become overweight.  Ive tried to avoid that at all costs.  I tend to not eat as often as I should.  I want my life to be perfect, but theres not much I can do.  I just figure that people get farther in life if theyre thinner.  Its painful, but hopefully someday in the near future it will be worth it.  I suppose its also a distraction from the rest of my sucky life.  Or it could be a test to see how strong I actually am.  My damn parents said Im a coward for dropping college, so I guess I need to prove to myself that Im not a coward.  Hold on, shes about to talk to me.

That was awkward.  Our conversation went a little like this:

Oh hi Tiffany darling I havent seen you in ages!

So, howve you been? said the woman in the too-tight banana yellow bathing suit.  I couldnt talk to her- I was so deeply disgusted by her obesity.  Her weak pale limbs seemed to buckle under the pressure of the sky.  Where had I seen her before though?  Ah yes, shes part of the country club my parents run.  I hate the country club so much.  My debutante dress had canary yellow frills and white lace which gave others the impression I was six years old.

That woman is walking away right now, her feet leaving huge marks like craters being formed on the flawless surface of an untouched planet.  I guess she thought I was asleep.  I dont blame her- Im lying on the jetty with one leg in the water, one leg out of the water, dark sunglasses, and a tan that looks as if Ive been there for nine hours.  Rule 5: Go in the sun as much as you want- youll never get skin cancer while youre young enough to care.  Wait- whats that?  Ive never seen anything like that before theres a black speck in the sand about 6 inches away from the first crater-sized foot step.  I cant tell if its a hole or a rock.  I cant believe theres a damned mark on this beach.  Must I lose my faith in everything?  First my relationship, then my parents, now this flawless beach, which Ive known and loved for nearly every day of my young life.

Come to think of it, Im actually pretty old.  Ive been alive since September 8th, 1981 and I still havent done anything with my life.  Never let yourself get old and boring.  That should be rule six.  Rule 6: Never let yourself get old and boring.  Well I suppose if I want to do something with my life I better decide what I want to do.  Id love to be a professional boxer, but Id have to eat more.  Pursuing modeling would mean being thin and theres no way that Id be ready for that.  I dont care what other people think of me, I just need to prove to myself that I can be successful.  Actually, I dont really care about anything right now except for the damn mark in the sand.  Picture this: a beautiful unblemished beach with white and pink sand that is hot and sharp, yet soft to touch.  Ive been going to this perfect beach as long as I can remember, and now theres a blasted thing.  Rule 7: If you want to be normal, dont acquire OCD.  Aw hell, who says Id want to be normal anyway.  Maybe its a lonely clams air hole as he suffers beneath 20 times his weight in wet sand.

God dammit.  I guess if theres nothing to do about my life, I can at least fix the mark.  I guess Ill finish bitching about my life to you later.

Okay, so heres what happened.  I looked over at the mark and realized it wasnt a rock or a speck, but a hole.  Ha.  At least Ive been right about something.  I guess trying to find out something yourself isnt so bad.  Rule 8: Anything can be discovered through further examination.  About a foot or two below the hole provided a gloomy shelter for the ugliest clam Ive ever seen.  Its roughness and crudeness actually appalled me.  Stupid clam.  It deserved to be thrown out so sea.  As I wound up my arm though, I realized the clam wasnt all that bad.  Not only had it been living under immense darkness, pressure, and sand, but it forced me to begin examining things other than how sucky my life is.  Rule 9: The greatest things in life are those that have suffered the most.  Holy hell well would you look at that.  I guess that means Im one of the greatest things on the planet.  So I thought the clam should deserve to continue living rather than being bashed it against some dumb unsuspecting rock.  Then I decided that I would want to be the only great thing on the planet and that the clam should die anyway.  Using my pen, I pried open the clam and gasped.  I cant believe how stupid I was.  It wasnt a blasted clam, but an oyster.  What the hell was an oyster doing on the shore?  A pearl lay in the middle of the oyster.  Heh well would you look at that- life isnt as bad as it could be.  I could be an ugly clam.  Rule 10:  Love your life.  You'll thank yourself someday.

Description
May 7

Rule One: Avoid human interactions at all costs.  That's what I learned from my parents today.  God dammit, I hate them so much.  I guess they've gotten the best of me is all.  I suppose I'm tired with everything.  That would explain why I dropped out of college and broke up with Kjell.  He proposed, and I said I wouldn't be able to spend the rest of my life with him.  Oh well, that's life; it wasn't his fault anyway.  I was just bored.  I'll never forget what he looked like though.  He towered over me, pale and thin, but I loved him.  Every time I stared into his eyes, I would see icy blue spears- the type of eyes that most girls would shudder at the sight of.  His eyes weren't angelic blue- no; they were icy spikes that bored through peoples' souls.  Maybe thats why I loved him so much.  I was the only one who wasn't afraid of him.  His gorgeous, piercing eyes were nowhere near as scary as his accent.  Im not sure where hes from... somewhere Scandinavian.  He was four inches taller than me at 6'1" and would've done anything for me despite how weak he was at only 142 pounds.  After I broke up with him, I couldn't stand seeing him around campus, so I dropped college and went home to my parents.

I stared at their door a long time before I had the courage to ring the bell.  Its a huge white wooden door.  Towering over me at eleven feet tall, I remain the only one in my family strong enough to open it quickly and with one hand.  I would use the silver knocker, but they tell me it would scratch the door.  That's what I hate about them.  They spend money on unnecessary things just because they can.  The most annoying quality of the door though is that there's a knot in the wood just below the doorknob.  If you're tall enough, you wouldnt be able to see the knot, but its there.  A flawless white door complete with sterling silver doorknob and knocker, and despite the perfectionists they may be, theres a damned knot in the wood.  Smooth vertical white grains of wood rudely interrupted by a black hole.  Jesus Christ! I dont care if its a four and a half million-dollar home; I just want to move so I can have a door that doesnt have a knot!  Which reminds me- Rule 2: If you have the ability to do something good for yourself, do it.  Well I told my parents my story, but they didnt understand.  If you talk to humans, theyll say stupid human things.  They said either go to a psychiatrist or figure out how to solve my problems.  Thats why Im writing here now- I got a journal to record my thoughts.  Rule 3: Psychiatrists are shit.  You will never need one in your life.

Well, Im not sure what to write to a journal.  I guess Ill start by saying hello.  My parents named me Tiffany Elaine Brown.  I would like to tell you that my friends call me Tyler, but I dont have any friends.  The first thing I did when I bought this journal was decorate it.  It started out brown, unfinished leather.  I got bored with that pretty quickly.  The spiral binding is adorned with jewelry that Kjell gave me, including the engagement ring.  My God its beautiful.  Some might say gaudy, others tacky, but I say beautiful.  Its made of diamond.  Nothing else.  From throwing the damn journal around it got sort of tattered at the edges.  As if staples could fix that Oh well, it added an industrial flair to the journal.  My preferred name, Tyler, is on the cover.  I made it out of everything I guess.  The T is made out of a wooden crucifix with the top and part of Jesus head cut off.  The y is made out of feathers from a bird that my cat killed.  Despite the fact that the feathers are a little bloody and disheveled, cardinal feathers are really quite pretty.  The l, e, and r are made out of trinkets and junk that I found on the beach.  I love the beach so much.  Its the only thing I have left.

Well as long as Im kicked out of the house and living on the beach, I might as well decide what Im gonna do for the rest of my life.  Well, lets see.  I dont even know who I want to become.  Well, lets look at the other people on the beach.  Oh god theres this obese woman walking up to me.  Oh I cant help but shudder at the sight of her.  Im intensely afraid of obese people.  They just dont care about their life to such an extent that they let themselves get, well obese.  Rule 4: Never let yourself become overweight.  Ive tried to avoid that at all costs.  I tend to not eat as often as I should.  I want my life to be perfect, but theres not much I can do.  I just figure that people get farther in life if theyre thinner.  Its painful, but hopefully someday in the near future it will be worth it.  I suppose its also a distraction from the rest of my sucky life.  Or it could be a test to see how strong I actually am.  My damn parents said Im a coward for dropping college, so I guess I need to prove to myself that Im not a coward.  Hold on, shes about to talk to me.

That was awkward.  Our conversation went a little like this:

Oh hi Tiffany darling I havent seen you in ages!

So, howve you been? said the woman in the too-tight banana yellow bathing suit.  I couldnt talk to her- I was so deeply disgusted by her obesity.  Her weak pale limbs seemed to buckle under the pressure of the sky.  Where had I seen her before though?  Ah yes, shes part of the country club my parents run.  I hate the country club so much.  My debutante dress had canary yellow frills and white lace which gave others the impression I was six years old.

That woman is walking away right now, her feet leaving huge marks like craters being formed on the flawless surface of an untouched planet.  I guess she thought I was asleep.  I dont blame her- Im lying on the jetty with one leg in the water, one leg out of the water, dark sunglasses, and a tan that looks as if Ive been there for nine hours.  Rule 5: Go in the sun as much as you want- youll never get skin cancer while youre young enough to care.  Wait- whats that?  Ive never seen anything like that before theres a black speck in the sand about 6 inches away from the first crater-sized foot step.  I cant tell if its a hole or a rock.  I cant believe theres a damned mark on this beach.  Must I lose my faith in everything?  First my relationship, then my parents, now this flawless beach, which Ive known and loved for nearly every day of my young life.

Come to think of it, Im actually pretty old.  Ive been alive since September 8th, 1981 and I still havent done anything with my life.  Never let yourself get old and boring.  That should be rule six.  Rule 6: Never let yourself get old and boring.  Well I suppose if I want to do something with my life I better decide what I want to do.  Id love to be a professional boxer, but Id have to eat more.  Pursuing modeling would mean being thin and theres no way that Id be ready for that.  I dont care what other people think of me, I just need to prove to myself that I can be successful.  Actually, I dont really care about anything right now except for the damn mark in the sand.  Picture this: a beautiful unblemished beach with white and pink sand that is hot and sharp, yet soft to touch.  Ive been going to this perfect beach as long as I can remember, and now theres a blasted thing.  Rule 7: If you want to be normal, dont acquire OCD.  Aw hell, who says Id want to be normal anyway.  Maybe its a lonely clams air hole as he suffers beneath 20 times his weight in wet sand.

God dammit.  I guess if theres nothing to do about my life, I can at least fix the mark.  I guess Ill finish bitching about my life to you later.

Okay, so heres what happened.  I looked over at the mark and realized it wasnt a rock or a speck, but a hole.  Ha.  At least Ive been right about something.  I guess trying to find out something yourself isnt so bad.  Rule 8: Anything can be discovered through further examination.  About a foot or two below the hole provided a gloomy shelter for the ugliest clam Ive ever seen.  Its roughness and crudeness actually appalled me.  Stupid clam.  It deserved to be thrown out so sea.  As I wound up my arm though, I realized the clam wasnt all that bad.  Not only had it been living under immense darkness, pressure, and sand, but it forced me to begin examining things other than how sucky my life is.  Rule 9: The greatest things in life are those that have suffered the most.  Holy hell well would you look at that.  I guess that means Im one of the greatest things on the planet.  So I thought the clam should deserve to continue living rather than being bashed it against some dumb unsuspecting rock.  Then I decided that I would want to be the only great thing on the planet and that the clam should die anyway.  Using my pen, I pried open the clam and gasped.  I cant believe how stupid I was.  It wasnt a blasted clam, but an oyster.  What the hell was an oyster doing on the shore?  A pearl lay in the middle of the oyster.  Heh well would you look at that- life isnt as bad as it could be.  I could be an ugly clam.  Rule 10:  Love your life.  You'll thank yourself someday.