July Twelfth

I know it doesn't show in these posts, because I'm usually at my low points, but I'm kind of the joker around everybody. I don't think any of them realize how selfish I'm being. When I'm being funny, I'm not really doing it for their sake. Their laughter is my drug, and I'm using them to get my fix. It's disgusting when you really think about it. It's almost like their laughter is a contact high from my addiction. Every day I'm taking something from them that they didn't even know they had. And they don't even know I took it.

July Third

First post. Never done this kind of thing before. I'm not sure about the title for this thing; it seems a little overdone, cliche even. I don't know if anyone will see this and I don't care. Writing has always been my way of coping. Something bad happens, I write it down, I don't see why typing should be any different, other than not having to look at my awful handwriting.
Tomorrow is, of cours the fourth of July. Living in Virginia, most fireworks are illegal, but me and my dad usually bring a bunch up from the annual Myrtle Beach trip. This year is special though. My friends Andrew and Saunder are going to be here. Now all I have to do is clean for the next twelve hours. That doesn't sound big, but my dad doesn't really like people coming over. He always figures that someone's after our stuff. Some rediculous notion that they'll tell someone about something that's theft-worthy. Oh well. Family, right?