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1:18 a.m. Cheerios - 2002-10-30
Whoo! I was just about to begin writing. Ok, I'm here. I have feelings that my child hood may have been messed up. I named this entry cheerios because I feel like naming it Cheerios. How people think I messed up. How I think they are more messed up then me. An who is really messed up. I guess wer're all messed up. Uncle James said his son said wer're all guilty. I might not be all that messed up but pretend to be messed up. But the thing is when I'm normal I get this horrible wrenching, turning and burning in my stomach that precedes a bout of nervousness that kills. I sweat and my palms sweat and stuff. It really feels bad. Hah Hah. I told Hannah this the other day and I don't know what her reply would be. I wonder how much of my childhood I was in a fantasy world. I think to much of it. Maybe this talk is long due because I am a 20 year old adult so the "pickney talk not fee com out me mout anymure". I remember the first time I ever felt this weird feeling in my stomach was when Daddy turned the television on and this white dude with a guitar singing rock n' roll yelled through the screen almost as if he was talking exactley to me: "I just wanna make %%%% to %%%!" I couldn't control it. How could I help it. Then things escalated. This is the part of people's stories they leave out. I think because it's the beginning of beginnings that they don't wanna call a beginning. This is beginning to sound redundant. I am going to go and surf the web to cheer up my juices and get them flowing a little bit.



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