this is my first entry i hate writing my therapist said that i should express my deep inner struggle... bitch hmm i dont have any inner struggle i am not paranoid i really am being hunted i am not safe he calls himself the watcher he... but im supposed to be writing about things that happen so
today i saw a frog on my windowsill i have no idea how it got up there i live in the attic aka the third floor but then it fell and died on the pavement below buried in the snow i wonder how the frog survived the cold
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