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Anyway I was saying I'm bored, and that feels weird. I suppose I could start some work on my website or start on some ideas for the next uni project. I'm experimenting in the darkroom for the next few weeks! I'm very excited about it because I don't know what's going to happen or where it will take me. But I do enjoy playing with the enlargers and the chemistry, and I've barely even started yet so it's bound to get more interesting. The only hard thing about doing new things with my photography is not being able to show you. I constantly wonder how much you'd like my pictures, if you'd frame them or post them online or add to my mind maps of ideas. I scrolled through your facebook yesterday and found a post of yours, it was a picture I had taken and you'd commented that, I know you'd be proud of the pictures I take just as dad is, they're a little better than that old one I saw.

I've been feeling rather low for quite a while. Naturally I haven't confided in anyone, though hardly anyone even asks so why burden anyone with my everlasting grief of you. I did a whole photography project about that. At the time I liked the therapy it gave me but now I think it's a bit tacky, perhaps you would too. I can think of many things I would change about it but maybe that's reason to try it again, make it better as well as helping me cope. I don't know how I'd word my feelings to anyone even if they asked me whats on my mind. Though it is immensely annoying when people do ask whats up and all I can think is "are you fucking joking me, have you forgotten what day it is?"

I haven't been getting up to much. My bed becomes warmer when I'm feeling so low, not helped by the fact it's probably winter and anything that isn't bed is colder anyway. I don't have too much to update you on, some would say I need not tell you anything as you're "always watching over me" - which I kind of hope you're not because I'd rather have my bathroom time in complete privacy thank you very much. It's going to be a while until the next Saturday 25th, so I thought I would dedicate one of my many notebooks to this kind of thing, but unrestricted. Just unread letters to you. I know dad has said he talks to you sometimes as he asked me once if I talk to you too, which I do, just not out loud.

I found an old video of you though, you were playing intense tig with Alex in the lounge and that did make me laugh out loud - Alex and Dad too. I also found the video of dad when he was drunk and caused a lot of trouble in the kitchen, you know the night I'm talking about. I'm sure we couldn't get through it in one go you would laugh so much at your husband.

I know you would want me to be happy and celebrate today, and all my birthdays, to go out and have a meal or drinks at the pub, or bask in gifts and well wishers - as everyone tells me "it's what your mom would want" - though they do not need to - but I simply do not have it in me. I am tired and confused. Confused about what I should be feeling on this dreaded day, and tired of making attempts at fun. This year I have ran out of fucks in which to give and the past few months I have spent just minding my own business. It's quiet and sometimes a little lonely but I know I will always have my dad and Alex, and the Bates' - which they all made sure to tell me more than once last night. I think my new years resolution will be to use this lack of cares to really work on myself and my work, to get myself ready for wherever it is that I'm heading, really grab life by the wotsits.

I'm surprised at how calm I feel after writing all that to you mama, but hey if you were still here to actually talk to I would be calm, I'd have no worries and no imbalance of emotions - perhaps someone ought to take me to the doctor as you used to..

Maybe I'll have a birthday alcoholic beverage for you mom, what would you suggest, Baileys in my hot Chocolate?