I wish Paris Hilton would fuck off.

Wow. Quarter past 5. I'd be sleeping if this scouse git I live with hadn't set the fire alarm off. No-one's online so... ah, this. A new form of talking to oneself, for the 21st century. Tomorrow... I'll get ranted at if I miss my seminar, but they can rant away.

('Not an entry', eh Chris? Nothing wrong with expressing yourself. It's good fer you. :P)

Up bright and early this morning (not having slept and all). I saw the sun rise.

So here's me, leaving the block at about 8.30. I was the first up. I turn round to pull the door shut... and it's covered in blood. Streaked. The intercom pad too, as if someone'd lunged for it. There was a huge red patch where I was standing and a trail leading from the next block.

I reported it to the site office, and I'm pretty fucking freaked out. I did hear screaming I assumed was people getting in, though it sounded urgent, made me wonder. Well whatever, this was no nosebleed. Screw uni, I'm not going home in the dark tonight.