AHHHH! I picked at my face and made it worse. Didn’t go to school, hahahaha.

Yesterday, I had to take this dumb-ass AP test, like don’t know they who the fuck I am? Haha.

I felt like shit and I just sat there, then I remembered I had these two steak knives in my jacket. I pulled them out, I started rocking back and forth, a big smile on my face as the music slowly kicks in. I get up and slice the person’s throat next to me, blood shoots up, the curtains pull back and a 200-person orchestra begins behind me. Running up and down the aisles, stabbing stomachs, eyes, necks, running, jumping over seats, people screaming, blood all over my face, I lick some, a search light following me.

Then I open my eyes and I’m stuck taking this stupid fucking test. I can’t think cause this Spanish girl a few seats down next to me has big perky tits and my dick is getting hard… I take the test and when I get to the four-page essay I write about oxycontin, methadone, pain clinics, and the pros and cons of the needle exchange. I even mention how I’ve done methadone before and that the orange wafers taste really good when you crush it in a cup of orange juice. School sucks. I hope I don’t get in trouble for writing that.

Sean asked me to sponsor him, but I can’t cause we got high together. I wouldn’t be able to sponsor him… I guess I got high with Jamaica too. I guess I’m just scared to sponsor people now. I know Jamaica dying wasn’t my fault, but what I know and what I feel are two different things…

I’m sponsoring this guy JJ. He’s 39. He still has that opiate slur, but says he’s been clean for a few weeks. He seems willing but, then again, they all do in the beginning — not really for me to judge anyways. He got part of his foot chopped off by a boat propeller so he kinda limps. I picked him up from his halfway house and took him to this meeting I had to chair and then we went to the Ten. He’s just like me when I first got clean; keeps looking at the ground, socially awkward. I introduce him to everyone and tell him to get phone numbers... 17 years old or 39 years old, we’re no different.

I have a hole on the side of my face because I can’t keep my hands to myself. 

Hahaha soo yeah, I fell for it again. I saw Abigail’s pictures and go to thinking, “Damn, she kinda hot.” We’re supposed to be hanging out this weekend. I have to do this project for Mrs. Keen’ class, shit sucks. Why does she have to give us this huge “your life depends on this” shit? Like if you don’t do the project, you don’t pass… what the fuck!

I saw that lady at the gym again. I’m addicted to sex. I see a hot lady and my dick inflates with blood and I can’t think. My stomach starts going I’m just like, “Goooddd damnnn let me fuck that fucking pussy for the love of fucking god, holy shit.” Those tight Nike black pants, six pack perfect, perfect lower back muscles with them dimples for your thumbs…. I’m at night school, I have to go to night school because I fucked up so much last year, I need to take this quiz and do this reading but I can’t stop thinking about this 37-year-old lady wrapping her lips around my cock and I’m shoving her head down on it while spit rolls down her chin and I’m whispering, “Yeah mommy likes that teenage cock, huh?!”

It's hard being 18. When I run into other kids my age, I just have nothing to say. “Heard it's gonna rain today… ughhh, excuse me I have to go jerk off.“

I love going to meetings. I love being around other addicts. I feel at home, I feel loved, I feel connected with everyone and everything.

I watched The Virgin Suicides last night, it was good… like I didn’t watch a bunch of virgins kill themselves.. I’m talking about the movie.

Almost done with my fourth step.

This guy came up to me at a meeting the other day and said, “Hey man, I heard you killed it at the park meeting last night.” I couldn’t help but smile, it felt good. I said, “Yeah, I spoke there.” The guy is Hispanic with a gold chain and some Air Jordans. He says, “Bro, that shit made it down to Miami. People were talking about some young kid who ripped it at the park. Good for you man, you’re the hope these kids need.” It felt surreal.

Okay, I really gotta do this project, talk to you later!

- Are you talking to yourself?
* No!

May 15th, 2009

- Hello, Bryan.
* Hey.
- How are you doing?
* Good, pretty good.
- Are you sure you’re not just saying that?
* Lol no, I feel good, for real. The last couple days were whatever, but today I detailed my car, went to the gym, got my headlights restored (they were so yellow) and tonight I’m speaking at a detox. This guy Karl asked me to speak.
-Nice, a detox, huh? That’s good, you’ve come a long way, ya know. You’re like a whole new person. I know your parents must be proud. There’s still some issues we have to work on though.
*Yeah I know. It’s cool. I never thought I could get it all back. I never thought I’d feel normal again. I forgot what food tasted like, I had no emotions, I wanted to die, and now it’s like I can’t even imagine living like that, if I saw a dog living like that I’d call the humane society.
-Bryan, you’re very mature for your age. If you ask me, you can do anything you want if you stay clean. Don’t forget how special you are.
* I try not to.
-Oh and Bryan, I think you’re out of mind as well.
* Out of my mind?
- Yeah, its ok though, that’s some of the stuff we’re still working on kiddo.
* Ugh ok.