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Well, I stayed up till 6am last night, and as well as chatting about a ninja pirate army and writing notes on the invention of tradition, I thought about important stuff. The whole point of detoxing was to get my head together and move on in life, and maybe I will now make a start on this. I wrote pages of stuff about life, problems, and general rubbish. Re-reading it now makes me sad.

I still feel like I have done too much wrong, made too many mistakes. There is no way to fix this. I have fallen down a level, and I will never go back to being who I was. I am stuck on this level, and I will have to make it my home.

I have to realise that I will never make it anywhere. I won't be anything amazing, I won't change the world, I am nothing special. Most people are perfectly happy to live with those facts. I have to as well. No point dreaming of what will never happen. I can't live in dreams forever.

But then again, why bother living if I make no difference to this world? All I will ever get is a drudge job, and by the time I'm thirty my brain will be just as dull as every other small-town shelf stacker. Though I'll probably be dead by then anyway, so it doesn't matter.

I don't know why I'm bothering to detox any more, but now I've started, I don't want to quit. I'm trying not to add to my already epic list of failures.