I have Irish tomorrow. Plenty of various poems and stories to be learning, and at 7 o'clock I still haven't started.

Really need to go study, so this is a super short post.

Got some really bad news yesterday. I'll go into it more on Friday when I have the time.

Until then.

I had an Irish test today on 'An Bhean Óg', which went surprisingly well. Despite the fact that I hadn't learned either of the essays we were going to be getting, I managed to write two-and-three-quarter pages. School actually wasn't too bad today.

My dad bought a new car the other day. Well new to him, 5 years old to the world. It's pretty. One day, long in the future, after I've had the Polo, the Corsa, the Corolla and so on, I'd like to have a car like his, but in shiny black.

You know sometimes when you've got this feeling, but you can't place it. Like you feel like there's something you should be worrying about, or stressed about, or maybe even happy about, but you just can't seem to remember what it is. Or like you've messed something up, but you can't remember. I kind of have that feeling. In the negative way.

Maybe it's just that I feel I should be starting my homework, but maybe it's something more than that. Maybe I feel like I've disappointed someone in some way. Like I should have accepted their invitation and now I regret it. Sometimes I am so, so stupid.

I know I never appreciate people when I have them, and that I always want people when I can't have them; always lusting after what I can't have. What's so much worse is when you had someone before, but didn't want them, and let them go, but now you want them and you can't have them.

Sometimes I just want to talk to someone. Who am I kidding, not someone, but that one. Him. I loved the chats we used to have. I told him so much, and he listened, he really did. He gave me advice, and made me smile every minute of every day. I know it's not like that any more, but for that happiness he gave me, I am forever grateful.

Now, I worry about him. I always have. Not in a way that affects me every waking moment, but I know there's something up with him at times. It makes me sad, because, beneath it all, he's just a big softie who needs someone to love him. In ways, I wish so badly I could give him that, just give him a hug, or say something, or be someone, who makes his isolation go away.

It's weird how much his name means to me. When I see it, it's like it says so much. We talked about stuff I wouldn't be blabbing about every day and it's just...

Now that he's gone, I don't miss him. But I do cherish those memories I have, even if to others, they look like nothing.

But now, I need someone else. But until I find him, what do I do now?

Every Monday, Tuesday and Friday I have Irish in a classroom with an amazing view. When I sit down in the back corner of the room I can see all the way up as far as the city centre.

From day to day the view varies. Some days it's raining and misty and dull and cloudy. Others it's sunny and bright and clear and fresh. It doesn't matter whether it dry or wet, there's still something absolutely magical about that view. It's like you're here, inside this classroom, with a 28 other people wearing the same clothes and listening to a woman try to teach you something. Only a few metres away, there's a completely different world going on. There's women (and men) doing jobs at home, or watching tv, or on the phone. There's people commuting to and from work, meetings, catching up with friends. There's students struggling to drag their hungover heads out of bed.

And all this, separated by a mere sheet of double-glazed glass. You are so near, but yet so cut off, and so separated from this world you desperately long to be a part of. I can see various UCC buildings. It makes me think of how the only reason I am sitting in classrooms for 7 hours a day is so that, in two years time, I can be there. I can be sitting in lecture theatres learning about stuff that interests me; that is my passion.

And for a split second, I am motivated by that thought. But then I come back to reality; I focus on the teacher, and I wish, I wish so hard, that I could be a kilometre downstream walking around the Quad, or strolling down College Road, or having a coffee in town. I want to be living a life out there with the rest of the world.

Being me, and enjoying the little things, one day at a time.