The Diary of Lindsay Lohan

My soul is like diamond dust shrouded by a total eclipse.

My life is so complicated right now, and I am stretched out like the sky between the edges of the grand canyon.  Can I not just sit and have an iced tea and watch Thelma and Louise or something?  

I feel like somewhere I misstepped, and I didn’t get the goddamn glass slipper or else the whole butterfly effect or whatever you call it came into place.

Dear Di,

I don’t know why Oprah is so fixated on making out like I’m the next Marilyn or something, all tragic and doomed in my acid wash jeans.

How do you tell a goddess to shut up though?

The Super Bowl is like a metaphor for my life.

Dear Diary,

Jail, schmail.

My heart is not a sea of vodka; it’s a cat, it’s an ocean, it’s a candle in the wind.  I’m part tornado, part lioness.

Yours, 

LL

Dear Diary,

Sometimes I just feel like I’m a young Drew Barrymore wandering through the desert amidst a shroud of cacti.

Yours,

LL

Dear Diary,

Like I would have ever had sex with that midget Tom Cruise!  As if!

Yours,

LL

Dear Diary,

I’m going to light a few more sticks of incense and hope that it opens up my soul and I find out who I really am once and for all.  The world is like so much stardust.

I’ve never met a lawyer I wanted to fuck.  Not really, anyways.

Yours forever,

LL

Dear Diary,

Why?  Just why?

Yours,

LL

Dear Diary,

Sometimes I feel like I just want to live in the black and white world of the past.  It just seems like things were so much simpler then.

Yours,

LL