I feel an inexplicable desire to burn things.

Sometimes myself.

To see things be mauled, and in disorder.

January 28

I celebrate my brother's birthday with his family. We go to the restaurant down the street where they serve a 10-piece wings combo for only twelve dollars and change. It's the best deal you'll get nowadays, living in the city. The price of things has gone up drastically since I was a child, meals, shows, and happiness. If it could be bought. When I get back home to my decent-sized apartment I'm spent. However, I do find myself smiling at how the day went. Which was a nice surprise to me. Thereafter, I begin to work on the project I had been assigned to by my boss.

February 14

Today was Valentine's Day, and my girlfriend stopped by my place. I had moved my project to the basement so that she could unwind from work while I got ready to go on our date. I had hoped that she wouldn't hear it. It's groaning that it did every so often as the Sun would go down. Today was the day I first recognized that it was scared of the dark. Even if it came at the current relationship of my girlfriend I found this to be a well-worth discovery.

February 16

The police came knocking at my door soon enough. I struggle sometimes to believe that the woman of science that I planned on marrying had sold me out so quickly without giving me the benefit of the doubt. I guess it was the whimpering that did it. And my incessant desire to not let her go help it. But love was always unpredictable. I knew this, which is why I liked science. Even if the depth of science was inquantisemally larger than what are brains could comprehend, there was a numerical depth to it. Who can know the depth of the human heart?

March 8

It escaped the basement. I had been awoken by the number of messages and missed calls on my phone. Thirty-three people dead, fifty injured, and my project gone, burnt into ashes by a dozen flamethrowers. I cannot even describe to myself how bad I felt the need to hurt something at the moment but only pray that I never feel that way again. Hopefully my eyepatch serves as a reminder.

March 15

I attempted to set myself on fire today. How hard is it to live with only one eye! If the world knew I bet, they would not scorn me any longer. My soul often feels as if it is no longer mine and is caught adrift in the winds between Hell and Earth. I feel an inexplicable need to burn things. Sometimes myself. To see things be mauled, and in disorder.

March 12

I was released from the mental hospital after a three year's stay. I can only hope that I can continue to do better from what I once was.