I hate stupid emails almost as much as I hate stupid people.

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Dreams can be real fucked up sometimes. When I was back in Dublin a couple of weeks ago I brought back some stuff, 5 years (94-98) worth of diaries for one thing and also a dream journal that I use to keep on and off for no real reason other than I wanted to I guess. The last two nights would have had some major entries in there.

I was flipping through my diaries at random just now and I came on the page when I finished secondary school (May 23rd 1997) for those wondering and wow springs to mind. I don’t think I want to talk much about this at the moment actually, flipping through and looking at specific days brings back a lot of things that I guess I just don’t want to think about much less talk about. The good old days?

In other news, I have 15 single socks. Now that is just fucked up.
My head hurts, I’m going to bed.