I'm leaving from seeing my dad in the morning. It's been good here. Really good. He hasn't been working, which means we've been spending plenty of time together, talking and not doing too much.

Ugh. So I've been screwing around on this dating website for a bit now. Something recommended by people from group. And I really did talk to some people for a bit.

I was going to make myself write all of this down, but that doesn't seem so important anymore. I'm typing this on my phone, by the way. Also on the train. Around midnight.

I should be asleep. I'm tired and the longer I stay awake the longer my cough will get worse and keep me from falling asleep.

Here I am again, back to write down things I can't write in my proper blog. You know, I don't think I need to write there at all. This honesty thing is over-rated sometimes.

So, I had written a bunch about how I'm all for full disclosure and I'm going to start blogging in a place that's attached to my social circle where people know who I am in the real world.

But I'm crying in my mother's appartment. Because my guitar string broke while we were tuning it. She broke it. And now she's gone out to buy a new one. And I'm crying. What the fuck?