It's all about trust, it's all about trust
Well, 2003 was the year that wasn't for me. So being the misrable bastard that I am, I just spent a good 2 hours reflecting on it.
Heh, fuck everything.
This whole journal thing is a load of bollocks. I realised today that after I deleted my old journal, I saved it on my old hard disk, so I now have no record of it. Not that it's something I was proud of, 700 updates of me, ranting about how paranoid I was and how I couldn't cope too well with the puny pressures of modern life.
But then this one is mostly the same, especially if you read the private entries.
So last year? Well, I'd write about it, but there's nothing worth going into detail about. Yrana left me in a flood of tears, then a million chances went to waste. Not that it was anyones fault, of course, all just a series of minor coinicidences that lead to me being single for most of the year. Oh well. I got a 'B' in gcse English, which was nice. And a 'C' in psychology AS, which was less nice, but I'm resitting that on the 9th. Somehow, despite giving some chinese guy £200, and losing in total hundreds of other of Mr. Ladbrokes' pounds, I still have a job.
Could be worse, I just got a bunch of music from Emma's pc on to my spanking brand new MP3 player.
Though I plan to disband this journal shortly, I promise I'll be back in a year to keep it updated on whether things got better or worse. Like some failed romance "Oh, we'll get married if we're still single at 35" sort of bollocks.
Happy new year.
Heh, fuck everything.
This whole journal thing is a load of bollocks. I realised today that after I deleted my old journal, I saved it on my old hard disk, so I now have no record of it. Not that it's something I was proud of, 700 updates of me, ranting about how paranoid I was and how I couldn't cope too well with the puny pressures of modern life.
But then this one is mostly the same, especially if you read the private entries.
So last year? Well, I'd write about it, but there's nothing worth going into detail about. Yrana left me in a flood of tears, then a million chances went to waste. Not that it was anyones fault, of course, all just a series of minor coinicidences that lead to me being single for most of the year. Oh well. I got a 'B' in gcse English, which was nice. And a 'C' in psychology AS, which was less nice, but I'm resitting that on the 9th. Somehow, despite giving some chinese guy £200, and losing in total hundreds of other of Mr. Ladbrokes' pounds, I still have a job.
Could be worse, I just got a bunch of music from Emma's pc on to my spanking brand new MP3 player.
Though I plan to disband this journal shortly, I promise I'll be back in a year to keep it updated on whether things got better or worse. Like some failed romance "Oh, we'll get married if we're still single at 35" sort of bollocks.
Happy new year.