Niki and I went to the arcades this evening. Was good fun. Relaxing.
I came home and have been looking through photos. Memories. Good memories, and at the same time bitter memories. Was hard to keep the tears inside, kinda tears of joy but they turn in an instant when you realise you don't have those moments any more. I don't know why I wanted to look at them. Stupid perhaps. Perhaps I ought to delete them.
One thing I noticed is how thin I was. I guess I should see this as motivation to do some damn exercise. I took some photos at the weekend and I looked so bloody fat. And I just feel fat. I hate it.
I still don't know whether to stay here. What is the best thing to do? I wish I could see a sign. Just one thing that would make me decide. I guess I have to get away from my parents. Strange thing is I don't feel any different away from them in some ways. I don't miss them. I miss my sister a bit, and my nephews. If I move here I need to bring a lot of stuff from the UK. How the fuck am I going to get that all here. How am I going to take it all back again.