October 11th, 2001

Daria

None of my business

You know, for a few days I'd been wondering what was up -- where everyone was. Now I think I know. I think I know a little more than I want to know. But more than I'm supposed to know.

You know, no one ever tells me anything. Now, I know a lot of stuff which people will gleefully tell me is none of my fucking business. I know a lot of stuff which I'm pretty damn sure I was better off not knowing. But I don't know the things I need to know -- such as, which of my friends now hate each other.

I had this dream a while back, that I met Kevin Smith and his friends. And I was so excited. But then, they told me I was the most annoying, obnoxious person they had ever met. And I was crushed. I've been thinking about what that dream means.

If you don't like me, tell me. Be a man or a woman about it. Don't leave it for me to figure out -- as we all know, I don't have the social skills to tell, remember? I'll respect you for being honest. But I'm tired of being a barely-tolerated hanger-on. Don't assume that things don't affect me just because I'm not fucking or sucking anyone.
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    "Friend Is a Four-Letter Word" -- Cake