Nov. 03, 2003 @ 10:33 p.m.

The second I walked through the door my gut told me I wished I hadn’t of. The memories were too fresh, the sights of seeing you with him, and seeing her, with everyone’s eyes ripping me apart like a bomb just went off inside of my head. My heart ripped out for all to see in a flashy and fictitious manner then stuck in a jar labeled "Anything but Happiness." Passed around the room, this jar being filled with irony and $20 dollar bills as my final eyesight of this a hand pushing down wads of money, fades to black and I only hope that I can rationally and rightfully realize this means I am dead. Congratulations, I feel like sh*t, now do your sanitary duty and flush me.