Of Deviant Hearts V.2


Est. Contributor
  1. Adult Baby
  2. Diaper Lover
Of Deviant Hearts​

Dear Journal,
Today is the beginning of a new school journey, I’m becoming a Junior at High School, but even though I’ve been in high school for two years now, I still have problems making new friends, and since I just moved to Miami, I really don’t know which persons I’m going to meet and that makes me really nervous. Like, not nervous in a sense that I’m going to puke, but anxious in a way that you have a pit on your stomach and you really don’t know how to handle it. It’s getting hard, you know?
My mom and my dad think that everything is peachy, that I will become the most popular kid in the block and sweep the floor with ‘em losers’. I’m not like that. I’ve never been like that. It’s hard to pretend to be the best guy in high school and yet, feeling like you’re a completely fucked up person with a shitty personality. I still don’t get it. I don’t get people and people don’t get me, so it’s really difficult for me to fit in.
So mom and dad will probably never know what it is to be so different, because they were the popular folk when they were in high school. They had tons of friends, they had straight A’s and of course my mom was a cheerleader while my dad was the quarterback. What am I? Well, let me tell you, I’m not them.
Writing on you feels strange, but it’s better than not talking to anyone. I have no friends here and no social life whatsoever. And my other friends back in Canada, they have probably forgotten about me. I was never the kind of guy that stands out, I’m easily forgotten and it’s getting to be quite annoying.
I want to be someone.
Oh, I didn’t say my name, I probably shouldn’t write my name here in case someone picks it up and figures who am I and makes fun of me because of my low self-esteem and me writing in a diary like some elementary school girl. Anyway, I’m Sam, Sam Jansen.
I guess if someone figures out about you I’m screwed anyway, so why not make it official? I’m Sam Jansen, I’m sixteen years old, and my life is a pathless road. I just wish this day doesn’t turn terrible, because I don’t want it to be bad. I’ve had bad days before and I hated them, back in my other school. I was an antisocial parasite.
Well, am I foolish for thinking I want some hope this time? Well, I have to go, the bus is waiting for my torture and I should probably get going.

Dear Log,
Hey, it’s me again. Richie here. Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve written here. It’s strange, you know, writing my feelings on my laptop. I guess it really means I’m alone. Who am I kidding, of course I am alone. I’m a fuck up. You see, my dear digital friend, I’m… great, I’m confessing my darkest secret to a computer file. I just hope no one sees you or my life is over. But I do need to talk… to someone… to something.
I’m a Teen Baby.
What is that, you may ask, well, it’s one of the most complicated things you can think about. I, at my seventeen years of age, like to wear diapers and behave like a baby. Yeah, not shit, Sherlock. I’m being serious. It’s… complicated. My therapist told me that I should write this things down just so I can feel better, and maybe she is right. So here’s the long story short.
Ever since I was like, what? Five years old, I’ve had a desire to go back to diapers, and the fixation and fascination never went away. It made me feel like a freak and an outsider for years. I would suffer from this urges all my life, thoughts of babyhood that seemed so freaky and inappropriate and just… wrong. There were times where I would wrap towels on my bottom and pretend they’re diapers, and I would imagine I was a baby.
Yes, that’s how fucked up I am.
The therapist said that it was okay, that many people in the world have this sensations some times. For some it’s a phase, for others it’s a fetish, for other’s it’s a lifestyle. She encouraged me to keep an open mind and look for other Adult Babies online, that I would probably find people who can understand me. I did, and discovered this whole underground world inside my world.
Suddenly I was not alone. Suddenly I was… connected to others. But it doesn’t change the fact that I am struggling to find a way to juggle this thing with my life, with everything, I’m trying to balance my life, trying to understand how I fit in in it.
So today is the first day of school, and once again I have to put up the mask of the fun skater boy and pretend I’m normal.
But I’m not normal, right? I’m just a pretender.
Well, time for school, let’s see how it goes.

Dear Diary,
It’s that time again. Here I am, all perfect Scarlet, pretending to be some… princess of fairytale. I’m the most popular girl at school and yet, I feel like a fraud. I am a fraud. My friends are false bitches, my boyfriend is an asshole jock and my family is falling apart. And yet I look into the mirror and see this woman that’s supposed to ace in school and be the perfect date. But I’m not.
I don’t have real friends, and I want to find some.
It’s a painful reminder that I may be whoever they want me to be, but in reality, I’m just a fake. So I will go to school and put down all those people who have the potential to be my friends, and I will do it not for fun, but because it’s what it is expected from me. The Bitch Queen Bee. And yet, like a child I am dreaming of my prince charming to find me, to let me escape this brutal reality.
A reality that does not involve my father beating my mom up in front of me.
A reality that does not take me to the bottom of a bottle.
Diary, I think you’re the only one who understand who I really am. You’re the only one who understand what it feels to be broken. You’re inanimate, so you’re broken. I have a soul, but I’m broken.
I have no innocence and I just want to cry, but somehow I find the strength to move on. Because I’m perfect Scarlet Kenneth, the best girl…
Yeah, right.