Meep
I'm not sure if uni was the right choice to take...if only real life was so straight forward, like a mathematical equation, right or wrong...you, the non-existing reader get the picture... getting drunk on whisky after a lecture with people i had only met that day wasn't the best of ideas. yes, i got bread and lozenges, but not bothering to do homework, or go home to cook dinner,instead of getting drunk to the extent i was sure the gang of people around my street were going to attack me, to the extent i walked back to the main road and tried to find a more suitable place to get to my house (which, btw, is really hard if you left your map in your other bag...>.<), and was crying in the middle of a busy street full of cars but not that many people because if my dad was there, he'd look after me, he'd ring me up at about 5 and ask me how my day was, and be stoic about his work? not one person asked me if i was alright...am i that good an actor or did they not want to know? in wetherspoons, when i was waiting for my mum (when she was visiting) this bloke asked me if i was okay... do i really look depressed when i'm waiting, and when i'm actually depressed, look like god-knows-what? i had really ought to arrange a meeting with a counsellor and actually leave campus instead of hanging out with people i can barely know or trust... sometimes i wish i were back at home, cause at least my mum would disapprove of my drinking, and talk to me about it! i know it may sound like i'm an attention-whore, but i sometimes wonder wonder why the hell i tried to prove to myself that i could survive at uni after all that has happened. i'll probably regret posting this later. oh well. at least no-one will probably read this