i’m just sitting here. my room is a mess, so fucking on so fucking forth. my head hurts my eyes sting. dunno whats going on. I opened the fridge and the box of crisps fell on my head. pepsi. pepsi. the cat is snoring. watching more episodes of scooby doo but i’ve seen every. single. one. and it’s like a dreadful playback of my worst memories and i know if i stay up any longer if i do i’ll have bad dreams. i always have bad dreams. my notebook is nearly full, i am almost poor. now i’m packing and packing and will next week come quicker. no. no. no. stay the fuck away from me. i can juggle i can’t dance nor can i sing but i can shout and scream and make a fuss but i don’t i never do and i’m always tired and i never eat infront of people anymore. i can’t sleep. i don’t want to wake up alone anymore and most of this is lyrics from my favourite songs, when yr mind was filled with air and mine with dirt and our most brilliant friends are doubting themselves.