4/11/16
I have live fry in my mouth. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to convince Beetlejuice (the obnoxious jerk) to breed again. I had to be extra sweet, and unfortunately, people noticed. But I must have children! I deserve to be loved, and I deserve to be able to love, and since Beetlejuice is such pond scum…
I’ve gone three weeks without food, and I may have swallowed a fry or two…maybe seven, but I don’t want to let them out. The last time they left my mouth (stupid authorities stripping them from me) I didn’t see them again. It broke my heart. Puck has informed me that my children are the five little brats swimming around. I don’t care if they look like me; my kids would never act in such a way. I’m SO hungry.
4/18/16
They did it again! The authorities took my fry. The babies got too big, and for the briefest moment, five of them leaked out of my mouth. I’m sure the doctor would be affronted by having someone rub their mouth on the sides and underneath until they couldn’t stand the tickling and open their mouth like they do to me. The doctors did feed me after my anxiety calmed down, and that was wonderful. I think I found my kids, too. They’re in one of the vile prisons, but they look good, and nobody can get to them. I can also hang out next to them, so I guess it isn’t too bad. Now that I can see them, however, they look just like their father…not one looks like me! Very ungrateful of them.
Speaking of their father, he’s refusing to look at me. Our therapist told him that his lack of attention is precisely why I act the way I do and that he should try harder to be more attentive. He’d grunted when she said this—meaning he agreed to do better—so why isn’t he? I don’t know why we are going to counseling when he doesn’t do what she tells him.
Actually, she isn’t that great of a therapist. She told me that by nagging him constantly, I was the main contributor to our fights. She obviously isn’t the affectionate type, and so doesn’t understand that if you aren’t needling the fish you want to mate with, you don’t get anywhere. I’ve tried to point this out a couple of times, but all she’s done is deflect or attempt to have me brainstorm different ways to get attention. She just doesn’t understand how dumb Beetlejuice is. The more I think about it, the more I realize that the counseling sessions aren’t working. I’m also starting to wonder if Beetlejuice is worth chasing. If I don’t get to keep my kids, and all he does is ignore me, why am I wasting my time? –N. Smee
Written In Ink 