December 30thThey looked at this notebook for the first time yesterday.
They didn’t ask me about why I have been writing my shitty thoughts down. They didn’t ask me why all I did was talk about Olive Pratt on December 28th. They asked me who the hell I was writing this for.
I told them that I was writing it for anybody who wanted to read it.
They told me that it sounded like a suicide note if I was writing it like that. And they told me it didn’t sound like I was seeing the big picture.
They said that if I wasn’t careful I was going to end up getting stuck here.
And how did I like that?
I said that it sounded okay.
When I got back from them, Olive Pratt was sitting on her bed reading a fashion magazine. She had others scattered around her. She had two baskets full of cookies, a bask
