Dear diary,

I'm actually trying to quit smoking now. It's been four days with no cigarettes and I'm not even wearing the patches because I know I can do this. I am strong enough. The first day was really rough but I toughed it out. So far so good. I even managed to push through the day that dad said he'd turn off my cell phone without acting like a crazy person so I'd call that a win-win.

I've been painting like crazy. I started it to distract myself from smoking but now I've been doing it every day. I painted a cat and a picture from "Spirited Away" for my best friend, a picture from "Avatar the Last Airbender" for my other friend, a black and white portrait of my favorite villain, the Joker (heath ledger), and I'm currently doing a beautiful blue poppy paint-by-numbers. I can't wait for it to be finished.

I also wrote another poem.
This one's entitled Me.

Nicotine stained fingers
And tar black lungs
Scar filled thighs
And mind is numb

Sky blue hair
And silver black gauges
Sleeping all the time
And heart is racing

Wine tipped lips
And glazed out eyes
Pit of a soul
And little white lies

Dimly lit room
And soot filled candles
Drives at night
And all the wrong angles

Past is gone
And future is now
Can't move on
So stuck somehow

I'm feeling pretty good these days. No manic episodes and my depression has been nonexistent. I've been functioning at a relatively normal level thank god.

Relations with the parentals have been good. I stole $5 from dad's wallet yesterday and was so tempted to go and buy a pack of cigs but I managed to resist and returned the money to him instead. He was so proud of me. I apologized profusely and all was forgiven.