I’m really pissed off. I’ve been in my bed crying for the past 15 minutes. I feel sick. I haven’t had anything to eat the whole day. I went out in the rain three times in the morning. I’m pretty sure I’m going to come down with a cold soon. I just hanged up on my mum. I can’t listen to what she has to tell me. I’m mad and I really don’t care anymore. I don’t want to talk to anyone. To her or my dad or anyone. I just want to be able to eat something!!!

It’s these moments that make me think of  how much I fucking hate my life. I really do. I’d give anything to have a different life. To be someone else. Anything. I just don’t know…


I’m up and feeling so hungry it’s ridiculous! I just had four sachets of chicken soup yesterday and two slices of bread. What’s that? 500 calories a day? It’s fucking insane. The day before yesterday  I had roughly the same amount. I’ve been feeling so weak and had a splitting headache the only thing I could do was sleep. My heart seems to beat a bit faster than usual and this always scares me. I hate this. I’m still staying awake for the next two hours or so and then I’ll take a shower and go shopping for food. There will be some money in my account by then, hopefully.

My stomach hurts too. A lot.


I just remembered a conversation I had over the weekend with an Italian friend of mine who lives in a very picturesque city in Italy. Isn’t the whole of Italy picturesque anyway? We were talking about Christmas plans. He’s looking forwards to a week in Prague. I told him that sounded like a nice plan. As for me, my Christmas plans mainly involve having time with my similarly poor family and then back to uni business. He said he wished we could get away and do something together. I said, “I do too, unfortunately, I’ m broke”.

The conversation then moved to how much the weather here is awful. I told him I was not impressed with the rain and was getting tired of the way of life here in general. The Italian then said, “Move to Italy bella. People in Sicily are still going to the beach. You know my home is always open for you. Even if you’re broke. You can spend a few days at my house in *picturesque city”. I thanked him for the offer.

“Next summer,” I meant it.

I’ve always had this feeling that The Italian fancies me. I know I often get deluded and needy but with this man, I can feel it. We’ve been friends for about a year now, mainly because we both share a passion for photography and travelling. He’s never been suggestive or leering like all the other random guys. He cares about me and is always checking to see how am doing. He encourages me to go for whatever I want in life, to have fun, to be honest with him. I love that. I also like the fact that he’s very intelligent. I’m a sucker for intelligent men. Conversations with him are always fulfilling and enriching, something that I don’t get from most men I talk to. I mean, afterall most of them are after  pussy, so I don’t know what I was expecting. I’m not saying The Italian is not after pussy too. If he is, then I’ll have to admit I like the way he’s subtle about it. I don’t mind either. He’s the type of man I could see myself having a fulfilling long time relationship with. I don’t care that he is 10 years older than me. 

He finished with a “Buonanotte bella “.


It didn’t rain.

I walked back home from uni after a one on one session with my tutor. I was told I’m a very bright and hard-working girl who seems very enthusiastic about the project. The project that I was not the least bit passionate about? That’s how much of a show I have to put on. It’s the only way. I can’t afford to show the real me. How broken I am. Lost and hopeless. If I did, I wouldn’t survive.

At home I got this

My baby, I love you. I want to see you.

It was that guy who’s been begging me to get naked for him on webcam. I had no time for that shit today, so I told him how busy I am and promptly logged off after letting him know that I’m aware he doesn’t love me. He just wants to see me naked. I didn’t think about King much today. I have a portfolio to finish designing, for presentation tomorrow. I have a lot of reading to do and an essay to finish. I’ve decided to stay awake until dawn, then sleep for a few hours before heading to uni.

I’m listening to a CD that King gave to me. As I work, I keep having those memories. I was so happy when I was him I didn’t care about anything or anyone. I didn’t listen to my sixth sense. I just lived for then. Everyone around me noticed this. King even once told me that during the time I was with him, I looked out of this world. He said I kissed him as if I was getting just too much pleasure from him. Like I was in a trance. “You are a very passionate girl,” he said. “I’ve never been with a girl like you.”

Well, that’s me. I love hard and fall harder. Still, no regrets.

I have to finish my portfolio.


I spent the entire day in the library doing a lot of reading and writing. I like the fact that once I start writing, I never stop. While I was there, the one person that I was expecting to turn up, did not. I don’t know this guy. I just see him around uni, especially in the library. I like him. He is such a handsome man. I like the way he carries himself and his features. I can’t remember when my fascination with him started, although I can somehow guess it was around the time King and I had this big bust up about his cheating ways. I suddenly found myself alone. Lied to and cheated on. Unloved. One day while I was seating in the library, feeling ridiculously down, I just saw him there. I stopped and felt something inside me. Come to think of it, I had always seen him around but this time I stopped to look at him long enough. I don’t know what it was but I felt some resemblance to King in him. They have the same features…well, almost. Middle Eastern like. I have this fascination with Middle Eastern men or Middle Eastern looking men. Mostly, the former because I like the whole package ( culture, language and all that stuff) King is not Middle Eastern. He comes from one of those countries that is not sure whether it’s in the Middle East or not, so you’d expect some people from there to have these kind of features. This guy, however, am pretty sure I heard him speaking Arabic on the phone. Sexy!  I’ve had fantasies of him making love to me so many times, it’s getting silly now. Unfortunately he doesn’t even know I exist and I don’t have the confidence to do anything about it. His eyes are so beautiful. Most of the times I go to bed thinking how wonderful it would be if I had the chance to stare directly into those eyes. The thought of it sends shivers through my body.

I’m going to bed right after I finish posting this because I need to wake up very early tomorrow. King has not been online. I logged in to all the chat messengers I use the moment I got home. This guy I met online was online and he immediately begged me to turn on my webcam so he could see me ( he’s always saying that I’m sexy, nice, beautiful…) He then proceeded to beg me to get naked. He has done this ever since he met me ( on a social networking site) I always said no. I don’t know why but the only man I feel comfortable getting naked on webcam with is King. It could be because we had something in real life and have had sex together. The thing is, even before we had real life sex, I always felt comfortable getting naked on webcam for him. It must be his sweet talking ways. He has this way of making me feel comfortable. Making me feel, it’s alright.

I’ll put on my favourite song to soothe me to bed. La Camisa Negra by Juanes. I hope it will help me forget that the only money I have left is £0.19. No bus fare. A lot of walking to and from uni until Saturday. I hope it doesn’t rain.