November 5th 2014

Last weekend, my father had his birthday. We went out to eat at a Greek restaurant. I dislike eating out with my parents; I dislike eating with my parents in general. There’s barely any talking at the dinner table, we just sit and eat mostly. Not that I feel any the need to talk to my parents or anything, it’s just sort of an uncomfortable silence. While we were waiting for our dinner, my dad brought up the subject of me going to university. I took this opportunity to talk about something I was thinking about: I wanted to take a break year. Just a year off between high school and university. A time to catch up on stuff I’ve wanted to catch up on, a time to work some jobs and earn some cash, a time to think about what I wanted to do with my life, since I have no idea right now. My dad was not pleased with this. He told me that I had to go to university as soon as possible; that if I took a year off, I’d change my mind about going to university altogether.

Okay, well, maybe he’s right. Maybe I won’t graduate university, or college, even. Maybe I’ll end up with a shitty job, working for shitty people for a shitty wage, while living in a shitty apartment driving around a shitty car. But maybe he’s not. Maybe I’ll be bored to death, and I’ll anxiously await the day I can finally enroll. Maybe I’ll live a typical ‘American dream’ office job life.

This might just be my lack of life experience speaking, but I don’t see anything inherently wrong with the first scenario, and I don’t see anything enticing about the second. Tons of people live ‘shitty’ lives, but they still live. They don’t get a ‘lesser’ life experience than some six-figure earning university graduate. And big earners don’t always live awesome lives either, or comfortable ones, even. They might endure great stress at their job, worrying about being fired if they don’t put in enough effort, competing for promotions and whatever.

If I could do anything I wanted after high school, anything at all, I’d move to a different country. The UK, the US, maybe even Japan after I get the language down. Just leave everything I know behind and start fresh, with a cheap shitty apartment and a job waiting tables or something. Just a change of scenery I guess. A long-term one, not a change of scenery you’d get with a week long vacation, or a month long one, even.

Anyways, that’s what’s been bugging me recently. I got some more to talk about, but I’ll be doing that tomorrow; I’m real sleepy-like.

September 22th 2014


So, I just got back from my first day at my new job stocking store shelves. Yeah I didn’t really know what I was doing. They put me in front of a wall of hair products, with a cart full of new stock next to me and told me to just kinda fill the racks. They then promptly forgot about me until two hours later, when my shift was apparently over. Okay then, whatever I made 10 bucks. I don’t know, I think I kinda like the job. Just put the things on the shelf. Turn the label outward. It’s not hard. It’s not taxing. It’s nice.

There’s also school. I’m doing that again now, too. Eh. Day passed pretty quickly. It’s pretty boring, but at least I didn’t feel sleepy. I have to write a letter of sorts. Man I hate writing assignments. It just feels so soulless to write a letter or story just to fulfill an assignment. I don’t know, man.

You know, when the bus finally arrived at the school, after the return trip from Greece, I smoked my final cig, and threw the rest of the pack away. I was standing there, smoking, when about three feet away from me, Asa’s little sister started coughing. I felt pretty evil, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t chuckling a bit inside as well. Choke on that second hand smoke, little child. It’ll toughen your lungs up a bit.

I’m not sure what this post was supposed to be about. But hey, those were some things that happened, and that’s what diaries are for, right? Documenting things that happen.

I think I’m going to buy some valentines day roses upcoming february. Our school has this anonymous rose delivery thing, you know the kind. I’m going to send some random people I like a bunch of flowers. I’m thinking about a budget of about 20 dollars. That should cover most of the people I like (a surprisingly low amount of people). In Greece, I realised I didn’t really like a lot of the people I call friends. They aren’t bad people or anything, but they just aren’t my kind of people. So yeah, the people that are my kind of people will receive a rose in about half a year. I hope I don’t forget.

This blog post is kinda messy. Bah, like I care.

September 16th 2014

Greece, blablablablabla

We went to see some more archaelogical stuff. Neat. I guess. I had to do my little presentation. I aced it, but not many people complimented me. That sucks. We went to the beach. I dislike the beach. Asa touched my hair. I don’t like people that touch my hair, and I definitely don’t like Asa. I know I called her a friend earlier in the blog, but I changed my mind really hard since then.  Plastic perky bitch. I drink a lot and I smoke a lot. Not doing too well in the happiness department. My friends aren’t helping much, the only ones I still like a lot are Dan, That girl I havent named yet, Junior, and her friends. I don’t even hang out a lot with most of those. I’m hanging out with the cool/tough/popular kids/jocks more lately. They’re jerks, but they’re nice. Sounds contradictory, but it’s true. They’re typical “guys”, wanting to be cool, smokes, alcohol, derring-do, whatever. But they can be surprisingly sympathetic, serious, and mature sometimes, though. My old clique is pretty damn childish, I don’t like it.

Yesterday, on top of a mountain, on top of a wall once part of an impressive fortification, I met a girl. Or, rather, a young woman. She was there, eating figs, playing her ukulele, and wearing slightly odd clothes. She had short hair and a nose ring. Typical hipster, manic pixie dream girl type person, I thought. That’s not necissarily a bad thing, though. Anyways, she said hi to me and offered me a fig. The fig was sweet, though a bit unripe, I learned later. She allowed me to I’ve her ukulele a shot. I sucked. I called a guitar twice, she really didn’t like that. She wasn’t angry or something, but her voice sounded very disappointed-defeated even. I’m sorry mystery girl. Her voice sounded as nice and gentle as her ukulele and I wish I could’ve spent an hour, or several hours, with her. But instead I had to leave after just a minute; Inhad to do a stupid, boring, faggy picture assignment regarding the mountain. Once I was done with that, there wasn’t enough time to scale the mountain again to see the girl. Now I’m in a whole nother part of Greece  and I will probably never see her again.

I wish I could see that girl again so bad. She was nice, and mellow, and cool and I’m too tired and down right now to continue writing or to proofread what I’ve already written. G’night people.

September 10th 2014

And now, I’m in Athens! W00t. Not. Athens sucks big time. At least there are bars and cafes. I ditched the group again. Okay, so Dan, Tan, Terrence, and co decided to go have fun on their goddamn own, and Calvin just went along with the most dumbest of people. So it was me and me alone again. I headed to an a bit overpriced restaurant. But the people there just looked really nice, and there was live music, so I went and took a seat.
I ordered some pork chop, which I shared with four stray cats: Snoezel, Freddy, Junior(no relation to the other junior), and Two-Face.  The cats were great listeners, and I ranted to them about my friends. The staff at the restaurant took a liking to me liking the cats, and I had a decent experience, I guess. The cats all had a different personality, which was pretty funny. Anyways, I’m going to bed, it’s late.

September 9th, 2014

Hey hey hey, it’s me, everyone’s favourite blogger person.
So I was feeling pretty shit today. And during lunch, I decided to just fucking ditch the whole group, including Calvin. All assholes, the bunch of em. I felt unloved. And then I found this restaurant. And it was the best restaurant I’ve ever been to. Best experience I’ve had since I set foot on Greece. I ordered a beer and a apple pie. The beer came into a frozen glass, amazing. The apple pie was just covered in caramel, with a side of ice cream and the lot had some sort of liqueur poured on top. Holy goddamn shit. I even got some free potato chips while I was waiting. And that’s just the food. The view was im-fucking-credible and the music was deliciously tasteful. 11/10 goddamn. Problem was, that feeling didn’t last forever. I quickly felt like shit again, and thus ditched everyone again. Luckily, the girl that clung to me, whom I talked about in my previous post, was alone too. I asked her if she wanted to grab dinner; she did. It was a shallow excuse for me to get drunk with someone that was nice to me. I downed abouttwo litres of beer, which is a lot for a lightweight like me, and we just had a nice chat. Just what I needed. And now I’m in my hotel room, and I’m updating my blog.
I’m probably not thát drunk, but I sure haven’t felt like this before. I’m constantly dizzy and my face is nice and warm. I also hung over my balcony railing in a dangerous manner. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be having a bad hangover tomorrow.
I should probably talk about this nameless girl. She’s nice enough, I think. A bit naggy, but that’s what girls are for. She never wears makeup, but she still looks decent. Her parents were divorced, and it fucked her up a bit; drugs, alcohol, that kind of stuff. I think she hangs with me and Calvin because she misses her boyfriend, who doesn’t come with us on school trips like these. Because he’s fucking 30 or something. Yeah she’s got some problems. But she’s nice.
I’m tired. I’m going to bed. You will probably read this a bit later than I wrote this; the hotel doesn’t have Internet. Oh well. G’night.

September 7th 2014

Greetings from Greece; wish you were here!

I’m on a school trip to Greece and its various famous sites.
It was quite a trip to get to the hotel here. First, we all got into a bus, and travelled for almost 20 hours to the Italian east coast. The ride was boring, and everyone on the bus, save a handful of people, was being an asshole. Then, we got into a big, modern, loud, modern boat. The boat sucked. We were supposed to sleep on deck, but I decided against it and me, Calvin, Tan and Dan went to sleep in a lower deck. I got to sleep on a baggage rack. It wasn’t very comfortable, but I survived. After finally getting off the uncomfortable, metal, green boat, we got onto the bus again. We rode around a while, stopping at some sites along the way. Another few hours later, and we got to the hotel, finally. It’s decent, I suppose, but that doesn’t matter, we’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning. Since we will be traveling around a lot, we’ll only be staying at the same hotel three days tops.
I’m typing this out just before I’m going to sleep. I just went out to get a drink. I was invited by this girl; I don’t know if I named her on this blog yet, but for some reason she tends to cling to me and Calvin on school trips like these. So we went to this cafe, she, I, Dan, Terrence, and some others. I only went along because I felt a bit down and felt like alcohol might’ve helped me fall asleep easier, or maybe lighten me up a bit. but that asshole waiter didn’t want to serve us alcohol. Man, fuck you for doing your job >:v 

So here I am, grumpy, tired, in a lousy hotel in a lousy country. Well, at least things can only get better now, right?


Side note: I love Calvin to death, but when I’m down like this his playful teasing actually gets to me sometimes. Eh, I’ll live. 


September 1st, 2014

Hey, hey, hey, it’s me!

Forgot about me? Cause I sure forgot about you! I don’t know. School ended, I was enjoying my holiday by doing literally nothing at all, and writing on my blog just didn’t pass my mind.

Actually, I wasn’t doing literally nothing at all. During summer break, I spent a couple of days a week learning how to drive in a driving simulator. I finished all the lessons, so in theory, I should be able to drive a car now. I have also passed the theoretical exam, though I can’t take a practical exam until I get a bit older. But if everything goes well, I’ll be able to legally drive around under adult supervision by the end of the year. So yay! Or something.

Truth is, I don’t know how often I’ll need to drive a car in the next, say, five years. I suppose it’s nice to have the whole learning process behind me early, though. My friends’ opinions are a bit split on this subject. My bud Calvin didn’t like his driving lessons, calling them a chore, a waste of money, and a waste of time. He’ll be moving to Japan to go to college once he graduates, and over there in the big cities, you probably get around faster with public transportation so I get where he’s coming from. My cousin, whom I took turns with in the simulator, however, is already talking about buying a car. I don’t I’ll be buying a car anytime soon. I’ll stick to my trusty old bike and public transport.

My trusty old bike? Wait, no. I’ve got a rusty old bike. My dad’s bike is the trusty old one. I’ve been using my dad’s bike for a while now since my rusty old bike was broken, but now my dad’s gone and fixed it. It’s functional now, but it’s not as nice as my dad’s bike. I’m supposed to use my own bike, but my parents are on holiday and I’m home alone, so I’m using my dad’s for now. For my birthday, I’ll be asking for a new bike.

Each year, I’ve only asked for one present for my birthday. This would be given to me by my parents. When my other relatives asked me what gifts I wanted, I’d answer: “money”. For christmas, I never want anything either. But you can’t ask money for christmas. Even though I tell them not to get me anything more complicated than money, my family still try to buy me presents. And they always disappoint. My granddad knows I’m into comics, so he bought me a collection of old schlocky romance comics. Nice try grandpa, but no. I once even got a extension cord for christmas. Given, it was practical and I quickly found a use for it, but c’mon, an extension cord? Though I suppose I prefer a thoughtless practical gift than a misguided thoughtful gift.

I have so much more to say, but it’ll have to happen later.



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