If I think hard through all my friends, there is only one who respects my stuff. The rest screw my room up whenever they come over. It must be a thrill to them. They knock stuff off my dresser, they dig through my closet and throw stuff around the room, they break my most valuable things. They use permanent marker on my furniture, and they carve into the wood of my furniture. But they don't stop there. They take matches and burn my bed, laughing the whole time. It makes me very angry. I am tired of it. No more friends allowed in my room unless they get permission. It's been old over the last three years, every night having to clean up my room. It ends now.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
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2 comments:
friends don't act like that
My dad put a lock on my door, so I don't have to worry about all that so much anymore. Relief!
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