Dear Journal,
Bleh
Today I spent the day by myself. Scootaloo had a thing at a place, and I just stayed at home, watching cartoons to feel better.
I've been thinking about baking.
There's a recipe that I always make when I'm feeling crappy. It's a family recipe, and it always makes me feel nice.
Not even my friends know about it.
I can't even cook (or bake? Is that different?) anything really. But my mom showed me how to make it and it was important to her.
So it's important to me.
I really need to visit them soon.
I have all the ingredients to make it, but I don't want to admit that I'm feeling terrible. If I start making it, then I'll think about everything.
About her, Gilda, my parents, and how I CAN'T HANDLE ANY OF IT!
I feel like I'm balancing on a tightrope over a bottomless pit. One wrong step and I'll fall to my death.
I have to be the perfect, awesome person I pretend to be. Otherwise I'll...
...
I don't even know what would happen. I don't think I want to know.
I have the ingredients. I could make the recipe.
I have a car. I could visit my parents.
I have a phone. I could call her.
But, instead, I'm just going to wallow and watch my cartoons. They make me feel happy. No character in a cartoon feels pain like this. No character in a cartoon is so paranoid about being perfect.
I wish my life was like a cartoon.
All I'd have to do was sing a little song, learn an obvious lesson, and everything would be peachy.
I'm going to cut it short today. Maybe have a little make-out session with a bottle.