Heh ... So, trawling through old email DBXs, i found this gem..

who'd have thunk -

dated something like 18th May 2003,



Dear Me,

this is you speaking, and this is the first real diary entry you ever made. -

chances are that it'll be the last - or one of the few.. and to start... you took out your labret. this was the day it went.

you just got 2 messages from mum, telling you that Nan's getting worse - . the fall the other day seemed simply to be the catalyst.

she fell into the fireplace and bumped her back and head if you'd forgotten. she smashed the glass of the cabinet with her head, and smashed her lower spine and pelvis on the fire surround. now.. a little more than 36 hours later, she's just been rushed to the royal by paramedics, full of drugs to help her breathe.. but also full of Angina, pneumonia and fear.

Mah sounded awful didn't she. listening to her on the messages tore you up.

you just told dad - .. he's taken it much like you thought..only moreso - sensitively.. logically.. strongly. -

your thoughts now.. are still of your girl and your relationship with her.. wether you started the end of it by being honest with her mother, wether you started the end of it as soon as you told her that you loved her.. ... .. .. all that distance away from you. the ongoing problem of her parents acceptance.. you can outperform every local guy they could ever line up for her, but you'd never gain acceptance.. - do I start believing that it's them that would tear the family apart because of me.. - ? wether it ends up being me or wether it ends up being another guy.. - someone will have to prize their daughter from them - they need to realise she's a big girl.. - .. and that you love her

but now compounded by thoughts of being surrounded by family, and crying in a suit..of my mum and dad being at the front of our family line.. what attrocities the coming week will hold.

- Nan's coughing up a lot of blood - she has a deep pneumonia. and her heart rate is extremely erratic, which means that it's failing. I'm going to have to wear a suit...

poppudums and soda water.. - your conversational target has been here the whole night, and you love her to bits. - and I'm just about to gloat my huge crisps.. - just because I'm shallow and my mind is so screwed.. I have no concept of priority..

It'll be like an interview - ..

you talked to her for the last 2 hours.. she needs a gift.

You need rest - so close this rubbish.


Mad, eh?

Mad.



!

Keep this! :D