i don't give a fuck about your pajamas.

YOU LIKE ME? FUCK OFF. YOU DON'T LIKE ME. YOU WOULDN'T BE PLANNING TO BONE HER IF YOU GAVE A SHIT. YOU'RE A MAN. AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE FALLEN FOR IT. I SHOULDN'T HAVE FALLEN FOR YOU. I HOPE SHE SHITS ON YOUR CHEST YOU NIMWOD. ps. I like you. shame that.

because we all need a laugh.

"Simon's Dad: Your've had an eventful day
bunking off school, buying alchol illegally, defacing carly's drive and
insulting Neil's dad, have i missed anything?

Will: We also hit a spastic with a
frispy."

what's with this change?

I don't know what i'm doing with this life of mine. I seem to be pondering over every step I take, wasting time, thinking, thinking... Nothing productive is actually being done. Men? I still have two in the race. And i like them both and haven't felt more like a dickhead in all my life. They don't deserve it. I don't mean to do what I do, but it's so much harder to hurt someone when you like them. Who knows who will win this time? This race I get involved never has a clear winner and in the long run, is never the right one anyway, which most of the time, seems to be the problem. Shit. Exams? First in three weeks and I don't seem to give a shit.Nothing is being done, I keep saying, I'll do it when I feel like it and when I do? It lasts half an hour at the most before I get up and do something else. I feel like i've hit a brick wall with school. Something is telling me to break it and paddle on, get it over with, endure it and get where you want to go. But the other half isn't letting me, it's not worth it. It'll be okay, it'll work itself out. It rarelt does. So don't be a fool as I am and believe that. I've been looking at all of these Universities tonight and it's suddenly hit me, that in a years time (if I get off of my arse and get the grades of course) i'll be off to a University somewhere in life. I don't think i've ever been so scared about change. I won't be at home, or with the people I am most comfortable with today. Fresh Start. And i'm not too sure I want one. Not like that. Despite planning to stay together, me and the best friend are bound to loose eachother somewhere along the path and seperate. It kills me. I'm not ready. I'm not ready for anything. I'm too busy getting drunk and thinking about men. It shouldn't be like this. Not right now. I was so determined to change this life of mine. Exercise. Be social. Study. Work. Volunteer blah blah blah. Who am I kidding? I'm too busy wasting my life on Facebook and texting a man I probably wont' even know a year from now. What's wrong with me? I'm on an endless racing track, coming up to the finish line. And I just want to stop. Stop running and trun back. I'm not ready.

not everything needs a title.

"get real" inspired by politics.

Get Real. I'm going to hurt you. Let's not play happy families and pretend that secretly, I am not a man.

Get Real. I've been hurt. By you. By him. I even hurt myself with the stupid mistakes I make.

Get Real. Things don't just work out. You actually have to work.

Get Real. You think this sun is going to stay?

I can't ever be your "baby". Not really. Can I?

Urg. Get Real. Men are Men. I am a dick. And together, We do not work. Ever.

i'll be your boomerang, every fucking time.

and here I am again. Back in the place that three days ago, I was free of. He was a dick, and I know just as my life starts returning to it's previous state, he will return, fuck up my mind and my life and me, being the douche I am, will run back to him like a boomerang infactuated by it's owner. I really hope this isn't the case. I'm fed up of men, dominating my life. Yet, I'll welcome them in, butter them up then fudge up everything that looks like it is going well. It always happens. This is my life. Oh the joys. If only things were simple. Just once. If only I could make my mind up, act on it and actually stick to that decision, regardless of the consequences. I moan about men, but let's face it, I'm pretty sure a dude is hidden inside me, waiting to hurt the world. Fan-fucking-tastic.

the night after the night before.

"Hangover - Nausea and headaches often caused by way too much fucking alcohol. Can be identified by the ashtray in ones mouth,the vomit on last nights clothes,the want to never drink or eat again,the great dislike of sunlight, the undesirealbe urge to apologise to all the people you spent the night with, the stranger in your bed and need for a glass of water and many many asprin" At least I am not the only one. 95% of alcohol consumer's suffer a hangover the morning after a night out on the town. Sounds like we're animals. In most cases, where a party and alcohol is involved; we are. My reflections of last night have changed due to the occasional flashbacks I have been getting the entire day. Lovely. I needed it. I had to forget about all of the shit and have a good time. The night did not begin well. I then, realised alcohol was probably not the answer, sitting at a bus stop for an hour desperately awaiting the well- needed party, proved to put me in the shittiest mood. I did not want to drink, party, dance, socialise. I wanted to be home, in bed, with my tea, writing about how shit my life is and how nothing ever goes right. Two hours later, I was bent down a sink, being sick and telling the world, many of which I had just met, that I would be okay, "if only I had more bread". Good ol' alcohol. I had a good night, when I wasn't being sick or sitting in a corner somewhere with my head in my knees. This morning, due to the lack of sleep, my hangover had not yet sunk in. This is the moment I always fear, as I know that as soon as my head eventually reaches a pillow, I would wake up, and that so called hangover?; would be hanging. Largely. I still have a headache, a night on. Looking through pictures sends flashbacks of the horrific things I probably did and said last night. My mouth and stomach still feels like an ocean with little water. And yet, I sit in my room, thinking about the tears that I have cried this week, the things I have dealt with, I look at the pictures from last night, think of my hangover and wish the banging would just stop, and then realise, that I love my life. And all the bad things that happen and that are thrown at me? Makes me, me. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Well, perhaps i'd like to have actually revised this easter or for my dad to come home and be okay, I'd have liked to be warned about being blown out twice by him, I'd have liked to have seen everything that has happened coming. But then, in the morning, whether you are suffering from a hangover or not, what would we think about? What would we regret? What would we learn? What would we laugh about? Or cry about? Or cringe at? Nothing. Because no "good deed" (in this case, this is getting absolutly tit-faced in order to forget all bad) goes unpunished or unseen. And sometimes, this can only be a good thing.

could you be anymore of a dick?

PRICK. You're a man and I should have seen it coming. I changed everything for you. prick. Men? Why do we let them in? Let them get to us? Why the fudge, do I still like him? Hipocryte. Go talk to all of your girls. I bet you have them all lined up. Seriously, I hate men with a passion. Anymore shit, and I am packing my bags and joining a convent.

RIGHT NOW. THIS IS MY LIFE. A MASSIVE FUCKING PATH I WALK ALONE ON.

grr at him.

All I want is you.