Goodbye, I guess?

God knows I love attention, and that I was destined to live as a writer and die as one too. I'm not trying to be helplessly poetic with this. I'm dying. That's about all there is to it. No boy will cry over this letter and no teacher will stop class for me. It is what it is. So, it's about time for me to go, and while I'm gone, don't read my journal. I'll let you know whatever happens next, but for now, I shall finally get the sleep school has taken from me.

See you later,

Whoever I was.