so he went crazy at nineteen, said he lost all his self esteem and couldn't understand why he was cry-cry-crying

I almost cried on the train and then felt like the biggest douche ever.

I was sitting listening to my iPod and the annoyingly serene announcer's voice cuts through my music just to say the same things that were scrolling across the mini electronic board that tells you where the train stops at etc. So that bugged me a little.

So I started pondering why they always blast that irritating voice over a sea of people who are worn out and tired and just want a piece of quiet.

Time passed. I watched people.

We pulled into a station and I noticed a man with his back to me had a weird sling sort of thing around his waist that looked like it carried a baton or something. Maybe he was an undercover policeman? He wasn't in uniform or anything.

He pulled an extendible walking stick out from it. Everyone who was getting off at that stop had left as he tapped his stick against the floor of the train. Grasping the handle to the side of the train doors he stepped on the the platform. He was walking with eyes closed.

The announcer. Well it's for blind people isn't it? They can't read the electronic boards or watch the stations flash past the train windows.

He looked so vulnerable, so disconnected from everything.

I was slightly stunned momentarily at how stupid and blundering I am.

Then I started noticing people in the train properly.

The frankly overweight woman sat in front of my mother had a hearing aid and a tattoo on her shoulder of a smiley face.

The man a few seats along handed food to his haggard wife who was sat behind a pram, despondent to everyone.

The asian woman on the other side of the carriage to me rested her head on her boyfriend's shoulder, stretching out her slender neck whilst craning to look through text messages on her phone, smiling slightly to herself. He didn't glance at her once.

I was sitting outright staring at strangers. And I nearly cried. I am a shallow, self-indulged shell compared to people like these. I'm an average teenage girl. If my life so far was a book it would be flipped through on a whim then put back on the shelf. These people were well worn, spines cracked, pages bent in the corners, everything.

The woman opposite me stared back. She was old. Probably in her sixties or seventies. She was thin. Really thin, with a severe haircut. And covered in lines. She was a smoker. You could tell from the lines that crept towards her mouth, down-turned in a sneer at my vacant face. Obviously the wealthy type, tough skinned, hard to crack... snooty. I didn't like her. She would be the type of book that left a bitter taste in my mouth after.

Maybe I have a few stories of my own.

I hate making myself vulnerable for you. But I'm glad that out of everyone I could love, I ended up with you.

Day Six

A picture that inspires you

I didn't forget the photo-challenge.

you pretend that it's alright to wait up half the night, he can't be bothered to phone, you spend another night alone

I must be the most lame person in England right now.

I'm sitting in front of the computer, eating Coco Pops out of the box whilst watching old episodes of Derren Brown back to back on 4od.

I'm not even hungry.

It's half twelve- why have I not just fucked off to bed yet?

At least I didn't spend my whole day doing this.

I got my haircut; now I have a bit more of a fringe.

Oh and I let a friend take photos of me for her own photography project.

I quite like this one she did.

I said, "there's nothing I can do for you, you can't do for yourself", he said, "oh, yes you can, just hold my hand, I think that that would help"

There's a ladybird in my room!

I love ladybirds and have only just realised I've never seen one in my house before even though an array of, let's say, more unpleasant insects, seem to take to my abode well; spiders, moths, even ants.

I tried to take a picture of it for you. My digital camera's zoom was being a twat and I tried standing on a chair to get closer which then swivelled viciously- as viciously as a chair can swivel- and almost resulted in me breaking something (most likely, my leg). So I ended up standing on my desk which was bending under my weight and got these photos.

They're the best you're going to get and you should be grateful for the stupid efforts I went to getting this picture.

The ladybird's gone now.

I'm wasting my life aren't I?

Fucking hell.

I wouldn't change one stupid decision for another five years of life

I missed one of the buses I take to get home from the park. I walked the twenty minute journey home and stared blankly at the surprising amount of pervy men that leered out of their cars at me. It would have been alright if I had my iPod with me but I didn't.

I don't like long walks very much. It makes me think too much.

She was very loud and overbearing today. I would have liked to have talked to him too but my words were lost a bit beneath her drunken shrieks.

No, I don't have much reason to be depressed. But that doesn't make me a wannabe? What is it that I would want to be in the first place? Do you think depression is an image? I just get depressed randomly, there's nothing I can do to help it really. It's fucking annoying.

I would have liked to have talked about all the pretentious shit he verbalises so well. It's not that people like us try and be deep or whatever (I personally hate being referred to as deep, it just sounds so mocking) but, well, after a few drinks, it's nice to talk to people you used to be close to. It would just be nice to see how life was treating him nowadays. I should probably talk to him more.

Apart from the end, today wasn't that good. I stole whiskey from my parents' alcohol cabinet, bitched a lot, puzzled over a crying friend who I didn't get the chance to find out what was wrong with, played cards, sat on a wasp (yes, really), tried hauling myself over a wire fence whilst being stung by nettles, got bitten by midges, got stamped on and ended up slinking away from the group of people to catch the bus by myself after having three different people promise to catch the bus with me.

My next photo challenge thing is lame. A picture that inspires me. Too wide a spectrum, I'm afraid. Don't expect me to put that one up in any rush.

I will, however, leave you with this picture of the ceiling in the throne room of the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. Insane arabic mosaics.

given the option of dying painlessly in peace at forty-five, but with a lover at your side, after a full and happy life

My day has been thoroughly unproductive to say the least. I slept for most of it, uploaded some photos to Facebook, eventually went to Sainsburys with my dad and bought Vogue. It's a happy indulgence for photographers I suppose, those who like fashion at least. It's a good source of editorial photographers and models. And style, of course. It makes me ache for new clothes annoyingly enough. I think I'm going shopping soon so it's fine, it's fine.

The girl on the cover is called Freja Beha Erichson. She's Danish. I quite like her. Josh Olins who was the photographer took some lovely shots of her. This one (aside for being really out of focus- apologies) is one of my favourites.

Actually, I take back that apology for the focus, I think it adds to it in fact. I had to program my camera to have no flash so as to get the colours I like and that's why it's so blurred. But yeah, I like it anyway.

It smells awfully nice in my study at the moment. My sister bought some cherry body butter from the Body Shop and left it in here.

It was her birthday yesterday.

I forgot to get her anything. Oh well.

He got very drunk last night. Dangerously so. He kept trying to lurch into the road when I was sitting on the curb with him, yelling "I want to just fucking die" and then collapsing on my shoulder sobbing. I was the only person there. We came outside to get signal. No one could find us for a while and he wouldn't stand up. He wouldn't move from the side of the road. It scared me a little.

By the time I left everything was starting to seem slightly surreal.

I was sat outside pointing out the Big Dipper in the night sky and dancing to Mos Def whilst he got violent with random people and begged to borrow someone's phone. He must like her a lot. A lot, a lot.

Small things trigger the most nostalgic thoughts.

In a year I can give up school all together if I wanted. It's been four years at my school. Four.

I still remember meeting her for the first time at the bus stop on our first day of senior school, my mum and sister in tow. My sister was on crutches. She broke her leg jumping off a stage at summer camp.

I'm not nearly grown up enough to stop school.

I can't look after myself at all, I can't even cook pasta because ever since I burnt soup I've been too wary of my cooking attempts to even bother going near the oven. If there's no one around to feed me I just don't eat.

And yet, all I've wanted to do for the past four years is leave this house. I want my own place. I want independence.

The only way to go about it would be to have a roommate. I know who I would love it to be.

Oh yeah, another wave of nostalgia. Him being away is reminding me of when I used to be single. I don't know how I coped without anyone to talk to. That's how the nights used to go. Sat in front of the computer doing fuck all (or homework). It's weird. I feel a bit lost.

you make me lazy but I love you

Day Five

A picture of your morning

Today is day one of my summer holidays and this is how I spent it: in bed. I was going to go to Camden today but my plans got messed up.

He's away for a week.

Expect lots of bored/depressed/annoyed posts in the forthcoming days.

their souls are crumblin' like a dirt clawed hole

Day Four

A picture of where I went today

I'm still slightly tipsy but I wanted to stick to my photo challenge- thingy.

I went to the Downs and met up with old friends and met new people too which was fun. I went to school too but school is boring, you don't really need to hear about that.