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3/03/26 Teenagers, they’re obsessed with their phones, right? Right? Well luckily I’m not a teenager anymore, but I have been accused of being obsessed with my phone. If I’m being honest (don’t tell the others) I probably am, or I probably was. But I’d had enough. So, this Christmas time I had decided to go cold turkey and get rid of all social media. When you’re on social media there is so much to look at, or so much you feel like you have to look at, it can become all you d

22/01/26 Been thinking about the state of this fucking world recently. Been thinking, how do we sleep at night? Thinking, how do I sleep at night? It’s not really fair, is it? Not really fair that I can lie in my bed at university and in my bed at home. Two beds to lie in when someone has none. Not really fair that I can go about it, live my life, and just not think about it. I don’t think this is revolutionary. Think loads of people think this all the time, but 'cause we can

23/12/25 A jumper- the thick woollen type A pen that doesn’t smudge (because I’m left handed) Flowers To drive a short distance and be at a lake in Canada Dark wooden floors To wake up and our phones have disappeared but my loved ones are close by. We decide to head down to my Canadian lake and we swim there. The water is refreshingly cold and then we hike in the spring sun, where we tan but don’t burn. St- Germain Mountains around the lake A sourdough starter We hike up the

05/12/2025 When I was young, I wanted to be great, to be famous, and to be memorable. Does this change as you get older? I think it does. Although I am not much older, and not much wiser either. Perhaps I shall change my mind again, perhaps in a mere two years I shall dream of greatness. I suppose it is difficult to pick one thing when you know you can't have it all; you are forced instead to choose who you want to be. Everyone has dreams and desires for the future, and when

19/11/25 When I crave for winter it is not the cold I crave for, but rather the warmth. The warmth of watching the rain run down the window, the warmth of the low golden light that fills the room, the warmth of my heavy coat and scarf. Stranger though, when I crave for summer, I crave for coldness. I crave for the ability to cool off, run shrieking into the sea. I long for a summer where salvation is sticky bottles warmed by the sun, and the lake we turn to when we can tan no