>The following is an entry from Dylan Klebold's personal journal. All misspellings and misuses of words and symbols appear as they were written by Dylan, as presented in the additional Columbine Documents released in 2006.
Where the word [edited] appears is where investigators redacted (blacked out) words before the release of the documents to the general public. Other comments in [ ] brackets are my notes.
AH yes, this is me writing... just writing, nobody technically did anything, just i felt like throwing out my thoughts - this is a wierd time, wierd life, wierd existence. As i sit here (partially drunk w. a screwdriver) i think a lot. Think... Think... that's all my life is, just shitloads of thinking... all the time... my mind never stops... music runs 24/7 (xpt for sleep), just songs i hear, not necessarily good or bad, & thinking... about the asshole [edited] in Gym class, how he worries me, about driving, & my family, about friends & doings with them, about girls i kno (mainly [edited] & [edited]), how i kno i can never have them, yet i can still dream... I do shit to supposedly 'cleanse' myself in a spiritual, moral sort of way (deleting the 'limits' on my comp, not getting drunk for periods of time, trying not to ridicule/make fun of people ([edited]) at school, yet it does nothing to help my life - moraly. My existence is shit. To me - how i feel that i am in eternal suffering. in infinite directions in infinite realities - yet these [Dylan scribble] realities are fake- artificial, induced by thought, how everything connects, yet it's all so far apart.... & i sit & think... Science is the way to find solutions to everything, right? I still think that, yet i see different views of shit now like the mind - yet if the mind is viewed scientifically... HMM I dwell in the past... thinking of good & bad movies
a lot on the past though... ive always had a thing for the past - how it reacts to the present & the future - or rather vice versa. I wonder how/when i got so fucked up... my mind, existence, problem - when Dylan Benet Klebold got covered up by this entity containing Dylan's body... as i see the people at school - some good, some bad - I see how different i am (aren't we all you'll say) yet i'm on such a greater scale of difference (as far as I kno, or guess) I see jocks having fun, friends, woman, LIVEZ
[two drawn arrows pointing down to the text below]
or rather shallow existences compared to mine (maybe). Like ignorance = bliss - they don't know this world (how I do in my mind or in reality, or in this existence) yet we each are lacking something that the other possesses -- i lack the true human nature that Dylan owned, & they lack the overdeveloped mind/ imagination/ knowledge tool I don't sit in here thinking of suicide gives me hope, that i'll be in my place wherever I go after this life. that ill finally not be at war w. myself, the world, the universe - my mind, body, everywhere, everything at PEACE... me- my soul (existence). & the rotine - is still monotonous, go to school, be scared & nervous, somewhat hoping that people can accept me... that i can accept them... the NIN song Piggy is good for thought writing... The lost Highway sounds like a movie about me... im gonna write later, bye - <<-VoDkA->>