I have found my calling. I took a gun and a cowboy hat, and I shot at tin cans in the wood. I lowered my voice and punched trees. I listened to Tool and chugged a Bud Light. I rubbed dirt in my wounds and started a fire. I think I've found my peace. This is the third time I've had to write this, since it didn't save the last few times. It was frustrating, sre, but I've taught myself to be more stoic, more manly. I've been a wimp, but I think I'm growing. I'm a man now.
The new Tyler, The Creator album released today. I've only listened to Like Him but I plan on listening to the rest after school. It needs to be Friday already. My arm started draining in class today, and the teacher forced me to go to the nurse. They banaged me up, and sent me back to class, all dandy.
Today is such a slow day. I'm not fond of slow days because they don't occur often, but they feel like they last forever.
I went home today and felt like crying, so I went outside and killed a rabbit and ate it. Now I'm in my room, alone. I think I should be stronger.
With care, Michael.