Next year...

I will hopefully, cross-your-fingers-and-wish-me-luck, be in college. And I'll have moved out from here and again, hopefully, moved in somewhere in Dublin.

And I'm going to be all by myself.

I'm going to live of tea, ready break and chicken noodle soup. I'll come home because I miss my Ladypup and to convince Mammy to buy me food to restock my presses.

I can dye my hair any colour I want, though blonde is really the only one that suits it. I can be free from fighting constantly with the Mother and I'll make new friends- while keeping in contact with the current ones.

I will finally get a beautiful scaffolding piercing, and my nose- again.

I'll still covet my lovely little harddrive, which truely is like a child to me. I'll go out to the pub, and be legally able to. I'll be happy and lovely and yeah, there'll be the bad times. But who cares? That's inevitable.

And things will be brand new.

I hope, I hope, I hope.