"it's the end of the end of the end"
The more I think about it, the more it seems that a considerable part of life is just a fucked up, ridiculous cycle. One regurgitation of bullshit after another.
Have the last four months really existed? Talk about a rollercoaster. In some ways I feel like I'm twenty again, I feel free of the shackles in my mind that I placed on myself for no reason I could even begin to understand. I'm certain I'll be much better for it from hereon in, but the fact I've cut off my own legs so often in recent years is a thought too overwhelmingly scary to think about more than is necessary.
It's all change. In just over a week I'm going to France for a week, then coming back to England for a couple of weeks, then travelling around Europe for a month before living at home for a few weeks. I need to get away.
Believe it or not, I've stopped watching Neighbours, Coronation Street and Sky Sports News. I've also sold a thousand pounds worth of my possessions. I never thought I'd see the day.
I'll be back in England from August 7th, back in Leeds permanently from September 1st, and then I guess the whole fucked up cycle will start over again.
See you all later.