I’m still good for not needing the bad but I’m left talking to who else but me. Too scared to work out who else I can message nice or memory stuff to.

So what do I tell myself in the diary that I’ll never read?

Do I tell myself to stop drinking because I know it ain’t good or do I give a fuck?

Of course i don’t. I’m me. I’ll keep going untill I crash into a wall or someone tells me to stop.

I have a big beard and am growing crazy long hair. it’s not sensible for a me who needs to get a job when this malarkey is over but fuck your bollocks I have to ride this shit out.

It’s shit I don’t even want to tell me when I’m writing in my own diary. It is so fucking important that I don’t know what I’m doing when I’m doing it. And it’s the only truth I know about who I am.