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I figure we're do fer one o' these. <3

What's your name?:
Ever been in love?:
If so, I bet they have a name. What is it?:
What's your favourite song?:
Okay, maybe you haven't been in love. Do you have a crush?:
If so, what's their name?:
This quiz look weird to you, yet?:
You gonna send this to all your friends?:

Favourite...

Show:
Drink:
Person[in the whole, wide world!]:
Food:
Song:
Video game:
Website:
Band/Group:

Have you ever...

Seen a building get burned:
Burned down a building[I sure hope not O_O;]:
Kissed anyone on the cheek:
Lips?:
Made out?:
Given anyone CPR:
Stayed up all night and watched TV with your friends?:
Broken down in front of more than three people?:
Confided in someone so completely that you started crying while talking to them about your problems?:

Oh, looks like I'll have to add on a little something. It is a journal, after all.

You know, everyone has one. A little jar inside them. A jar of hot, sticky acid; our problems. Some people don't let any of their problems get inside it, they take care of them right away. But some people, people like me, bury all of their troubles in there. All of them. They don't talk to anyone at all, they feel like it's not necessary; but they cry themselves to sleep at night.
My jar lid was shut tight-- TIGHTtight. But it was still about to overflow. It's really funny how when you're in a situation like that, someone comes along and opens it in a matter of minutes. It feels good to let it open, but normally, we scoop it up right away, and put the lid right back on, only taking care of the top, letting it out. The acid feels so hot, burning through your insides, but it feels so good to let it out sometimes...