It's 6.25am and I haven't slept yet. Just got out of bed after tossing and turning for hours. My body clock has officially gone nuts.

There's about 5 million thoughts going through my head, Just racing in my mind like the rwd and fwd buttons gone wrong. Maybe that's what I get for tiring myself out the last few weeks.

So now it's just me and a glass of Calpis soda trying to calm down. I think it's working.

I'm glad it's the new year holidays. Because I'm running on low batteries. Output is still 120% but the juice is dying and the head is aching.

You put 2 motivated, serious adults (1 bald guy and 1 girl) together and you get something like me. Dave is like mom. Mike is like Bap. Except I got everything, the good the bad and the ugly.

That still doesn't fully explain how I can't get to sleep but I suppose it explains how I got to this point. Ha yeah blame it on the parents.

I think despite the tirednesstheworktheheadeggs and the sheer inability to see the whiteboard in school anymore, I am happy. If only I just had abit of time to stand back, appreciate my life and say "Oh good job" then maybe it would be perfect, but I think I'm just so in the swing of things I just can't yet.

It's just with life there's so manythousandmillionsbillionstrillions of excitingcoolsuperfunky things to do if you go and do them. Unfortunately one day is limited by 24 hours with 60 minutes and 60 seconds. If there's one thing I don't understand it's how slack some people are. Their loss.

I imagine one day in the future I might look back and think of this headache day and think "You stupid boy doing so much and almost killing yourself. But thank god you were a stupid boy because it got you somewhere and I'm now standing where that somewhere is. And now I never have to be a stupid boy with a headache for the rest of my life because of you."

Regret. Worst word in the universe. The whole fucking universe. My only real regret in life is not learning how to play soccer properly in primary school. Regret is shit because the whole point about it is you can't change, which is how screwed up. So fuck regret.

I should write more at 7am because it seems the rubbish comes out more straight forwardly. And I just discovered mom didn't wash my cup properly. Except for that bit of breaking news I feel alot better. Ok time for bed.