Dear diary… go fuck yourself. My name is Sydney. I’m a boring 17-year-old white girl. I’m not special. Might help with your moods. I keep losing my temper. I don’t want to, but it just spills out. -Hey, Syd.
-Hey. Stanley Barber. He lives down the street from me. Shoes, who needs them? My best friend is Dina. She’s dating golden boy Bradley Lewis. Do you ever smile? Anyway, my dad died last spring. And now everything’s so different. Dear diary… when does this get easier? It’s probably just puberty. I think there might be
something wrong with me. What do you mean? I just feel different lately. Everybody feels like a freak sometimes. Yeah, I guess. Oh, God. Dear diary, what the hell is going on with me? You can tell me anything.
You know that, right? I want you to attempt
to have a normal high-school experiece. What a world we live in, Sydney. Holy sh– -What’s he doing?
-Just wait. Hey.