Number Nineteen.

I don't even know if I'm having a good time here. I'm trying to keep track of the good days versus the bad days. Then days like today confuse me. Mediocre days. Where it has good and bad elements. I suppose it comes down to how I feel going to sleep.
I've listened to loads of songs tonight that make me think of home.


I fucking miss my doggy! and my cat. Sarge isn't doing too well. I hope he's okay and if he does need relief I get to say goodbye. I love him too much. Lucy! I miss Lucy!

I miss my brother loadssssss, the trendy son-of-a-bitch. He might be going home soon, though. I hope he's doing okay.

Goooodddddd, I miss the little lady way too much. Fuckkkkk. :(

I haven't got pictures of my parents but I miss them a whole lot too. Gahhhh.
I miss cooking! I barely cook here.


I FUCKING MISS MY NANNIE!

Number Eighteen.

I'm in Boston.
I'm close to broke and need money.


But I am having the best time.

Number Seventeen.

I'm in this place right now.
I don't know if I'm down, or tired or just worn out by everything. I've stopped making it everyone else's problem though. Everything that happened as a result of this has been a product of my own design.

So fuck it.I may have started the war, but I'm starting to rebuild now. That counts for something, right?
I just have to decide if Im going to demolish everything that's left, Cartesian style... or try and build on top of what remains.
Keeping one or two things really goes without saying. I am well and truly smitten.

Number Sixteen.

I can't stand anything to today. Everything is making my skin crawl and I just don't want it. Even the dogs messing reducing me to tears. God, I hate the world sometimes.

I keep getting myself into conversations that I know will hurt me, and while I want to yell, or call you out, or say "what about me, you dick?", I can't... because I know its my fault we're talking about it.

Gah, I'm so bad at people. If I didn't think being alone would make me completely crazy, I think I'd like it.

Number Fifteen.

Being in love is hard.

I mean, it hurts sometimes and it's odd feeling so dependent on one person.
And then there's the jealousy... both of our jealousy.

But days like today make up for it.
There is no better feeling than laughing hard, chasing each other around and throwing grass at each other, then collapsing on to the ground and just being together.

I love you, Babe.

Number Fourteen.

No matter how hard I try to keep on top of talking to everyone, it feels more and more like I have no one anymore.

Number Thirteen.

"I'm here for the fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers...
For the guilty, the innocent, citizens, and the immigrants.
If you ain't listenin', you missin out.
Bear witness to the realist out.

If my voice didn't work, but my hands could talk...
Would you take the time to see what a deaf man thought?

I could be alone and homeless
Hurt won't heal, but my cardboard sign so my words are real.
Would you stop to drop change? Or stop for a change?
Engage in conversation, and exchange names?

Or maybe you would if my image was a bitch: big lips and bigger tits- show you what real sex is, but...

What if I was picked for grave? Sick for days? Aged to be sick with aids?
Would you listen to my story that I swear is touching or just blank stare cause you're scared to touch me?

If I'm Jewish or Christian does it affect your decision to see past religion and simply listen to wisdom?

Would you really listen to my views on the government if my raps were democrat and yours are republican?

Whether I'm black or white, gay, straight, hermaphrodite.. half the time, trash the light and we all act alike.


So, pass the mic,
don't assist being ignorant.
Unclench your fists for a bit and just listen."

Number Twelve.

I don't even know what to write,

Hi. I'm crazy and sad and way don't deserve how you treat me.
I don't think I can be the same anymore, though. Sorry. I love you.

Number Eleven.

You have no idea what you do to me.

I am drinking tomorrow night, in Large volumes.
I am not going to see Paul anymore.

Number Ten.

I'd really like if someone just told me they were proud of me for what I was doing... because I'm wondering if it's even worth it anymore.
I'd like if someone told me I was doing okay and that it was the right thing to be doing.
I'd like it f someone ackownledged that I was crumbling apart and I need more than just a half-arsed smile and a cuddle.

I'd like if someone would treat this logically, see how much I'm doing and give me a little help.

I ind it hard enough to get myself out of bed, or talk to even my closest friends... I just need a little something because I'm dying here on my own.

Number Nine.

1.
I miss you a whole lot sometimes. I miss the days when I sat in my attic and we talked on the phone and you told me that one day everything would be fine and I wouldn't have to hide anymore. I wish you'd text me back one of these days. Let's go for coffee, and just be us again.

2.
I'm talking to you right now, and still, youre not really there. I feel like I invest so much time and I genuinely care... and you just don't. Id much prefer if you'd say so.

3.
Could you please just stop treating me like I have some terrible affliction.

4.
This was supposed to be my fucking escape from drama and stress but you had to fuck it all up. I don't even know who this shit is coming from anymore. Grow the fuck up.

5.
Is it just me, or did things seem different?

6.
I want so badly to tell you what's up... I can't though.

7.
Don't you dare look me in the eye because I will tear you apart you self-righteous son of a bitch.

8.
Youre a prick. Everything you stand for is bullshit. Youre a cardboard cut out icon. A little rich kid who likes to believe the things he hears in songs are true for him. You are an unbelievable waste of talent and oxygen.

Number Eight.

I am quite aware there are one-hundred and one things I should be doing over sitting around, listening to Alkaline Trio, writing to my blog. However, I cannot do any of these things. I don't have the energy, the motivation or the will anymore. I don't really get to vent much, mostly because it's really hard to find the words.

I'm so tired of this stupid game.

I don't even know what I want to write... Help me, someone... because I scare myself and I don't know what to do anymore. Everything will not be okay if I just try. I've made so many steps towards getting better and it's just caused me more stress and left me feeling more lost and dazed.

I need to get out of here.

Number Seven.

Hey World,
I'd really like if I could have my life back because I'm tired of waiting around waiting for things to get better.

Thanks.

Number Six.

I've just ripped everything off my walls. I've been crying again. When I'm alone I get so hysterical sometimes, I think I'll never breathe again. I have no idea anymore, why this bothers me so much, why I'm so nervous and fucking awkward.

I hate a lot of people and there are some people I just connect with and I know they more than likely don't feel that way with me but I can't help it: I instantly adore them and I won't stop adoring them.

Paul will get an ear-full tomorrow.

Number Five.

I don't update this very much- but I reckon that's okay because most people don't read it. I've been having a harder time than I let on lately. Everything is really turning to shit now and I'm still the one who has to grin and bare it.

My da got his two weeks notice on Friday. I think he might be moving to Ibiza to work- we have a good few friends over there who'll try get him some work. It means I probably won't see him until September after he leaves, though. It's absolutely breaking both my parents hearts but there is nothing else we can do, is there? I mean, we're thousands in debt and broke as anything as it is... losing my da's wage will just about cripple us.
It's getting so much harder to get up out of bed, my head hurts constantly, I only eat because people tell me to, I can't function and nothing makes sense. I feel like this time I might lose my mind. Thoughts of giving up are in absolute abundance. Shann is trying really hard but she's losing her social life and she finds that fucking hard. I get the burdens of the three of them on my shoulders as well as what I'm feeling at the moment.

God, if I had any energy I'd scream and cry and feel hopeless in myself... I don't care anymore though. Maybe I should give up, I mean.. I'm not helping anyone, am I?

My dad is sick, unemployed and worried that if he leaves it would kill his father and we'd lose the house.
My mam is trying to decide whether or not it would be better for her to go to Ibiza, plus she's trying to juggle having no money and the financial shitness of raising a sixteen year old.
My sister just does not understand that my parents aren't being stingy.... the money literally is not there.

That's been kind of bugging me about my ma lately. Every time she's out of the house, she ends up buying stuff- regardless of how little it costs, it's money we can't afford. I mean, I remember during the summer, when stuff was starting to get bad... she gave me money for something I had to get... there was one euro left over and I bought a necklace from some shop that was closing down. She grabbed me by the necklace and told me that that was a loaf of bread around my neck. I know she's trying to cope and a tight belt doesn't even describe the state of this house at the moment but it pisses me off.

I'm going to talk to someone on Tuesday. I'm fucking terrified.