English class journal entry from 7 December 1992:

I’m going crazy!! I’m going crazy!! Who am I kidding?? I am crazy!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[unintelligible scribblings]

Can I lift my head up from the desk now? Someone tell me this is all just a bad dream… My head hurts, probably a result of wisdom teeth, pimples, and some bizarre psychological problem that no one has figured out yet. I don’t even have a reason to be crazy on this particular day, other than the fact that I never get anything I want to do accomplished. Except for STEALING CHALK. Just kidding.

[Author's note: "STEALING CHALK" written on page with stolen chalk.]

English class journal entry from 8 December 1992:

Is there something wrong with stealing chalk? Well, not morally. Chalk isn’t necessary to sustain life like, say, intestines, and the school always has more chalk. Not to say that the school doesn’t always have more intestines, but dammit, I’m not talking about the cafeteria. I’m talking about MORALS, here. MORALS. That’s what it’s all a question of.

For instance, it would be morally wrong to pull Joe’s hair. That didn’t stop me from doing it, however. In retaliation though he pulled my hair which hurt but is morally OK. He doesn’t seem to realize that by pulling his hair, I’ve released harmful gases into the atmosphere that will kill birds.