and it’s horrible, because i know i’m carrying this over into daytime, i’ve been awake with it all night and now it’s going to followmethrough the day, and all iwant to do is sleep, not be here but that’s the one thing i can’t so i just smoke spliff so i feel distant and it’s the closest i can get, until my dadwakes up for work andcan smell it,so he comes in to shoutand i roll on my sides, hide my arms and my face until he leaves, because he can’t see this, no one can seethis, i’m better on my own, it’s al better this way.

and no one can be here, because i push everyone away, i do stupid things and say stupid things and feel stupid things, but they can’t be here anyway, i only ever depress peoplei suppose it’s better for everybody this way, and there are things i think of doing, sick horrible things, i have day dreams about voilence,notlike everyday voilence like horrible shit, i dream about murder and wake feeling properly alive, but i don’t like it, so ihide in my room and take it out on myself.

and every time i look at the window it gets slightly lighter, and i know it’s nearly here, time become a drone and go out and do normal person things, and i dread it because my eyes are still wet and tissue’s still mopping up blood, and all i wanttodo is stay here, in the state of unbliss, where everything’s horrible, but i’m too high to care, i’m not me, i’m floating above me watching me but i know it’s not true, andi know i have to go to college, otherwise i won’t be able to afford more spliff and then i’ll have to stay here, and i wno’t be able to escape this place, i hate this fucking place. and when i try and help you, i like it, because it takes me away, just me and you, with a purpose, and stupid shit doesn’t count, the rest of the world doesn’t count, bombs could be dropping on sheffield and it wouldn’t matter, as long i was holding you, knowing you need me there at that moment.but when you help me, it makes you worse, you can’t handle other people’s problems aswell, so i sit and watch my self dissolve, whilst i’m floating up there, watching me smash things to peices, smashing mirrors, cd players, doors, wardrobes, anythingmy fists can connect with, because it makes me feel better, until everythings smashed up, and then i sit there shaking, until i’m high enough for it to not matter, and that way i don’t bother anyone, people don’t need to know and then people don’t care, it’s better this way.

and thn all of a sudden it’s daylight outside and it’s quarter to 8 and that’s time to get out of this bubble and leave, but i can’t, i just can’t, the thought of seeing other people, makes me feel sick.