God is there even any point of me writing in here? There are only so many things I can possibly say. Either it's going to be a long depressing memory about something that happened with Tamzin, a description of something sub-interesting that happened today, a rant about how ugly I am (Although give me credit, I haven't done that in a while), a little bit of excitement addressed towards the start of school next week, or you know... whatever else I write about.

I spilled soup on my carpet yesterday. Carrot and corriander, I don't think I'm ever going to get the stain out. (I think that's a cue to write something diaryland style about a stain on my heart or personality that will never be removed, but don't worry, I think I'm too young to have one of those)

I think I need to get out of the house, I feel like I can barely breathe at present, I need to just go for a walk to the park or something. But I have nobody to go with, and nothing to do there. I'm really sorry I've been so boring of late, it's just that my mind is officially... dead. I'm not thinking about anything.

I'm sorry.>