From a bathub in Jericho. Drunk.

The week dripped by sadly and slowly, laced with too many depressing hours I’d rather not articulate, to save space and time.

I was ignored for the vast majority of the time, torn between two personalities I’m struggling to own. Not for myself of course. Never for myself, nothing.

A girl gave me a book to read, that I like very, very much, but I simply can’t enjoy it as much as I could. Reading it, it feels like how I do when I’m with Hannah and her friends. It’s all so wonderful, but I’m just not that kind of person.

If you know anything at all about me, you'll know I got into the singing competition for my school. Haven't picked songs yet.


You're a problem that I can't abide
I could sleep, well, if only I tried
But I stay up, and dream of a bride to be.
Give it up, I can't wait no more
I am stuck on your bedroom floor
With the thought that I may not be as great
As those who came before.