Philosophical Shit

Dear Diary, May 3  
 
I got wicked stoned today and had the epiphany that the world is just like a massive Barbie playhouse, where we're all at the mercy of a bunch of sadistic and childlike Gods. Liam freaked out when I told him and informed me in no uncertain terms that if a giant Ken doll came anywhere near him, he'd chop its nuts off. I told him Ken didn't technically have nuts. He seemed to miss the point, and pissed in the fish tank. Said he figured if we were all made of plastic, the fish would be fine... they died.  
   
Dear Diary, May 7  
 
I got stoned again today. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I know it's not good for me, but it feels good, so I'll take the risk.  
   
The world around me appears to be fitting in with my Barbie playhouse theory. Everything felt really small. I felt really small, and I swear everything was made of plastic. Seemed a little less plausible when I came down, or up, depending on how you look at it.    
   
Liam bought a Ken doll, just so he could torture it, said he's been dreaming of it. I'm thinking Liam might be latently gay.    
   
Dear Diary, May 12  
 
Craig, Liam's older brother got stoned with us today. I told him about my Barbie playhouse theory. He asked if the shit we were drinking was made out of plastic too. I said it was a possibility that we were drinking plastic coffee. He thought that was gross, but that I was "deep man". I thought he was an idiot but didn't say so and asked him to call me ma'am instead, as I am lacking the appropriate anatomy to be a dude. Craig then commented that he wished I had a rack like Barbie to check out. I kicked him in the shin, under the table.  
   
None of us drank any more coffee.  
   
Dear Diary, May 19  
 
Slept over at Liam's last night and found his Ken doll under his pillow. I asked him if he was gay. He blushed as brightly as a fake orange tan, his olive skin choosing not to go red like mine does when I blush. I told him I loved him whether he was gay or not, and we smoked a joint out of his bedroom window, before he decided it was a good idea to kiss me. Just to make sure, he said. I kind of wish he wasn't gay, it was a good kiss, and turns out weeds make me... amorous.  
   
It's kind of weird that I unearthed his sexuality with a Barbie playhouse. If my little sister hadn't been playing with one in the lounge room when I got home that day, stoned off my head, the whole theory wouldn't have even begun. I probably would've made something up about the world being like Liam's fish tank instead.  
   
If the world is a big Barbie playhouse, I don't really give a shit, more power to the sadistic kiddie Gods. They've got us to play with, and me, I'm about as un-Barbie like as they get. I could do with a Porsche though.    
   
Maybe I'll write a story about life in Barbie's playland... hmm... maybe not. It's all kind of crazy really.    
   
Whatever, I needs me some more weed. I can't believe my best friend is really gay. Reality blows, and I need a new philosophy...