Perhaps referring to myself as a Diaryest was a wrong choice. There's a likely chance I've just made myself sound as if I have a chronic case of diarrhea. I don't by the way. But I've possibly got a serious case of extreme word vomit and so therefore should not be held accountable for anything I say here. I'm probably on opium( the perfume, I swear) and high doses of sugary drinks and cheddar cheese biscuits. I've also possibly just now triggered in you what I call the DuoIDon'tKnowIfShe'sInsaneOrJustReallyWeirdInAFunnyWay Effect. Which in elaborate terms means- you're reading this not quite sure whether I'm insane and possibly in the need of dire psychological attention or if my humor is just somewhat unconventionally strange.
Which I don't disagree with whatsoever.
It's become apparent to me that the only way I will ever stick to writing a diary is to write it in blog format. I've tried the conventional pen and paper technique and I've failed more times than humanly possible. It is time to break the pattern. You know like that one fictional annoying kid in your class who thought it was funny to whisper "butt cheeks" into your ears whilst playing Chinese whispers when the actual word was caterpillar. ( I swear to Cheezus I will ruin you George!!!!) Or a slight anomaly in a set of chemistry results leaving you both terribly frustrated and potentially on the verge of crying.
This is A Case Of Unconventional Autumns.
The less than sub-optimal diary of a mediocre teen.