My blog is the shit. I have 2 thousand something visitors and I have no idea where they come from. My blog may be the shit, but my life isn't.

What grabs me by the neck and suffocates me is that everyone else is having fun, be it mugging, boyfriends or girlfriend, doing stuff ... and I am not. I'm like the chicken shit, the lowest of lowest, a pile of dung, rubbish and crap, then me. Everyone is so busy getting involved in something.

I think this is the cue to save money and travel to London, all by myself. I'm the lonely nomad, but at least there I hope I can meet James. He's my only hope to having fun now.

--

HAHA NOW I KNOW WHAT GERRY DOES AT 3 AM IN THE MORNING FOR 72 SECONDS.

Labels: depressing, gerard butler, travelling