10 weeks

I had a thought today on the train ride home - what would happen if I was told that I'd die in 10 weeks time (and it'd be true)? I think alot of the things I do are for the sake of doing them and not for myself.

I would still apply for Award School. I'd go on holidays, and force bf to go with me. I would move into a hotel and get trashed every night. I'd get a tattoo across my clavicles. I'd stop worrying about the consequences of everything. I'd probably talk to more people, more randoms. Ride the monorail to work. Madly write something and try to get it published.

If I was to dissapear in 10 weeks I wonder what I could say that my life has amounted to. Sure, I went to uni, got a degree, (finally) got a good job. Nothing horrifically bad has ever happened to me, but at the same time I haven't done anything incredibly good.

I have so many things to tell the world but not enough courage to say them.