Well, my day hasn't gone to shit yet. Still pissed about Lucas getting out, and aparently getting back in by himself. I swear, there I something wrong with him. Those fucking kids, too. Are they real? Are they fake? Are they just hallucinations? Am I insane? I don't even know what to think anymore.
Oh, hey. I haven't cleaned anything in two days. I don't even feel like cleaning. Imagine that.
Alright, I'm also getting fed up with "the Voice." You're just speaking in those crazy fucking riddles, and those coded messages, making absolutely nothing make sense. If anything, you're trying to make things even MORE confusing than they already are, and I'm sick of it. I still have no idea who you are and you still refuse to come out and say who you are. I know you were somehow connected with Vicki's murder, and that's enough to already get me pissed. She may not have been a friend, but at least talking to her helped. At least she could understand my condition, and now you've taken that away from me. So now, I plan to take your freedom away from you. I'm not putting up with you anymore.
Still not allowed to go to work. Pisses me off.
I'm not getting any closer to any of this just sitting around here. Need to work. Have to work. People are depending on me. Must work...
-Harold Kemble
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