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Monday, 24th April ‘06

Paranoia has resurfaced, along with anxiety, depression and insanity. It used to lie in wait in the deep murkiness of my subconscious but once I started work, it unleashed itself. I went back home everyday, thinking, is this what I want to be doing for the rest of my life? There’s surely other ways to torture my pathetic self other than spending 9 hrs alone in this god forsaken place, doing 3d and all that crap. Never has the word Independent felt so real and burdensome. I just want to make money and have fun but i guess fun and money don’t go together in the real working world. God, I might die alone here.

Told mum that I don’t think I would be working here for long. She just looked at me like I was a rich brat or a freeloader who doesn’t want to work at all. Honestly, do I have to spell it out for her that it kind of sucks here? Both of them wanted me to work but when I bring back my work home, they ask me why im doing that. To them work should just be done at work. Hello? This is design, not modeling or sales (no offence to these ppl)

You know what I wish for? I wish for at least 30 k to fall on my lap. So that I can fly off to Australia and continue my studies. Then I’ll say adios amigos to the folks at home since they don’t give a shithole about my future, esp the head of the house.

Ciao to you and to my uncertain and bleak future.. --