Previously Owned By Aaron Washington. Purchased in London, England by Janette Washington on December 6th, 2010 in a Walmart. 

The first page seems to have been scribbled out, as if Aaron was frantic while writing this entry.

December 25, 2010

    I may have just had sex with a random man I've never met before on Christmas Day. The worst part is he wasn't wearing a condom. No, the actual worst part is that he was the dominant one! I'm a tall, muscular man, and my masculinity practically oozes out of me through my pores! I don't know why I let him be the dominant one, he was shorter than me! This was an incredibly stupid idea, to begin with. What demon of bisexuality possessed me to do this to myself? 

I should go home, anyway. Instead of spending my precious time with my family, I'm spending it with a man I don't know, and on Christmas nonetheless! I am being so awful. My mother would kill me, I'm sure of it, but she doesn't have to find out. How would she, she doesn't speak to any people she deems as peasants. The chances of her finding out are slim at worst.

And it doesn't matter, I'm sure she will kill me one of these days anyway. I'm sure my mother loves me somewhere in the deep, black cave she calls a heart, but she has a peculiar way of showing it. At least she got me this stupid journal for Christmas, saying that I could leave it to my next of kin if I am ever to pass away suddenly. It is a good hobby to have anyway, I'm pretty sure she keeps a journal as well. It is better than getting absolutely nothing, which is what I usually get from my mother.

Enough about my mother. Today, I awakened at an extremely early hour, due to my annoying younger brother, Carson. He is exhausting to be around, as most of my family is. Then I had to spend hours upon hours with my family. It was practically torture. I only got one gift, apart from the usual money. And that gift, of course, was this journal. 

After that I had to go out drinking, I would have gone insane without a drink. That's where I met the random man. I'm fairly certain his name is Jack. 

Jack is a nice name. He seems like a nice guy, too. I’m not sure why he insisted on wasting so much time on me when I didn’t deserve it in the slightest.  When he walked up to me in that bar, I was truly shocked that anyone as attractive as him would dare look in my direction, let alone sleep with me and hold me for almost an hour afterwards. Most of tonight felt like a crazy pipe-dream, but I guess it must have been real. Maybe the feeling I’m getting is because of this awful headache. 

I wish I could just stay here forever. Jack seems so kind, I don’t want to return to my family. I know I’ll likely never see him again, but I just wish I could stay here for a while, so I can escape those awful people, even if it’s just for a day or two. That would be so lovely, to escape from them, to get away and never have to speak to them again in my life. Now that’s a crazy pipe-dream.

Maybe I’m just longing for romance, like the fool I am. Why do I always act like this around people? I should just follow my mother’s advice and grow the fuck up. 

I need a scotch right about now. I think I may have had some already at the bar, but I need more. I always need more. The only thing that can seemingly dull my constant headache is a bottle of scotch and a good fuck. I've already gotten one of those things, so now all I need is the scotch. I didn't bring any, though, so I suppose I'm stuck with my headache for now, until I can break into my mother’s liquor cabinet again. 

Maybe mother was right. She usually is. Writing in this journal is quite relaxing.

-Aaron H. Washington 

December 26, 2010

I'm back at home after yesterday's little excursion. Mère is being herself as always, so I'm just relaxing in my room right now. I'm just glad I'm rarely the subject of mère's wrath. My mothers are often easy on me, which I appreciate. I'm afraid if they pushed much harder I would split in half under the pressure. I already have tons of expectations and pressures to succeed, I don't think I could take any more.

The only thing that gets me through most days is my alcohol. When I'm drunk, everything is better. There's less stress, no problems, no mother's nagging me or hook-ups screaming at me. It fixes everything for me. The worst part about alcohol is the hangover I inevitably will have in the morning.

Maybe that's why I broke into my mother's liquor cabinet. I know she will likely maul me alive when she realizes that I stole her prized scotch, but I don't have it in me to care as long as I am drinking and happy. I would have bought my own, but the store-bought stuff hasn't been strong enough for me lately.

Do you know the best part about drinking? It's like a warm hug in my chest, one that I've never received and likely never will. Which sounds like I'm sad about it, but I'm not. I choose this life of loneliness, and I'm content with it, but the alcohol significantly helps me through my day. At least my mothers are supportive of my alcoholism, seeing it as an addiction that only a true man would have, unlike my brothers disgusting thing for marijuana. Carson is so feminine about everything, it’s like everyone just has to know how queer he is… at least I’m normal about my bisexuality.

Well, Carson isn’t exactly abnormal about it… he doesn’t have a high voice, or do makeup, as far as I know. But it’s his mannerisms! He crosses his legs, cries whenever something sad happens in a movie, and longs for true love to come and rescue him from this family. He’s so childish and disgusting, I don’t know how he even lives with himself at this point. If I did even one of those things, I would jump into oncoming traffic in sheer embarrassment.

But anyway, I'm relieved to hear I'll be going back to America soon. Once the new year comes I can return home, which excites me. My American mansion has been missing me for the past week, I'm sure. I hope it hasn't gotten too dusty in my absence. I'm mostly pleased to get away from my family at this point, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to have me gone.

-Aaron H. Washington