I have to get up, was myself and go. It's already almost eleven and I managed to set my alarm for 19:45 rather than 9:45. The day is dull, darker than I've seen in a while. I haven't yet opened my curtains, but I know. I just know. I fell asleep last night with two pillows under my head, a giraffe at my back and a dog at my front. My mind was slowly stumbling across different memories and half truths. How many times do we have to remember it before it goes away? I wonder if I've made it up sometimes, if my heart decided one day to just be sad and to leave it at that. I do feel weak, but I'll get up and get out into this dull, dull day and drive into the city and walk to school. I've spent so many of the past few days alone in a darkroom printing photograph after photograph and never feeling satisfied. My hands are dry and my feet constantly sore, like I've been working hard. But my pupils are dilated and I'm standing around counting the seconds, and it feels like the cruellest fate to have to go there today, to not spend the day in a thoughtless limbo. Life goes on, sweetheart.