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[your-third-favourite-nipple]

I ditched work for gay superheroes.

So this is becoming a journal, which is fine because I have exactly one follower. (Hi! Please don't unfollow me. This isn't Taylor-related, but your like made me feel less alone and insane.)

Long story short: I spent some time in London and ended up in a pretty rough situation. Like... really rough. So, naturally, I made a web series. (It made sense at the time.) Against all logic, this chaotic, amateur train wreck got me onto a filmmakers' lab back home.

Fast-forward to 2026. That lab led me to a very cool room with a very cool woman. She's producing a TV adaptation of a book series. The concept art covered the walls. She talked about it with so much passion. I fell in love with the project on the spot.

She had already cast the actors, so I told her I was a marketer. Then I went home and Googled "what's a marketer?".

I'm now the marketer. (Amongst other things.) It doesn't pay, but it's an incredible opportunity, and I genuinely love it.

Which brings me to today.

I was supposed to be at my friend's house, (she has a laptop) editing an investor video for the show. Instead, I blow-dried my hair, started crying halfway through, cancelled, got into bed, listened to a gay superhero audiobook, and played Minecraft. Which is wildly unlike me. If July 2025 Me heard about this, she'd hang me with my large intestine.

(im not scared of her)

I've made a plan...

•Finish my TV series, I.D.U., instead of hiding behind different short film scripts. It's intimidating because it matters. That's exactly why I need to do it.

• Cut together an acting showreel from student films, shorts, and my own projects. Send it to agents. If I want to play “H” one day, I have to actually be an actress. I'm not letting what happened in London decide my career for me.

• Go to the pub more. See my friends. Let people in again. Revolutionary concept!

•If I leave a date feeling worse than I went into it - I leave him.

• Find an editor for TBBB. It's the first film I've made that isn't about trauma or about how I'm totally getting over my trauma. It's a love letter to musicians, and it deserves a proper edit and a proper score.

I want to feel like I'm moving in a direction I chose. I think that's the missing piece. Gotta take the reigns back.

[your-third-favourite-nipple]

I use her name on just eat.

I've been writing this tv show for six years. I've wanted to play "h" from the start. I held her in my head throughout drama school, like a soldier clutching his crumbled paper girlfriend.

I loved her. Wanted to be her. Then, later, I hated her. Because "H", and all of her faults, came from me - like a fucked up mirror.

Then, I realized that the character couldn't have her own voice if she was wearing my face and using my mouth. So I separated her. I started talking to her like a crazy person. Now she has an email address and a just eat account. She has a fucking just eat account.

And when I look back at the different versions of myself that existed as performances to get me through it all- do I include her?

When I talk to 19 year old London me, or 20 year old Director me, they couldn't be more different. They were faces that I wore situationally. Is that any different from picking up a pizza with "H's" name?

Whatever.

Thank you Taylor Swift. "Who else decodes you?". Great question.

I hope all the tortured poets in her department have just eat accounts.

[your-third-favourite-nipple]

With my brother. He's gonna say hi.

Hi

[your-third-favourite-nipple]

Highlights from yesterday's date:

(in chronological order)

•He gave a nice speech, asking me to be his girlfriend.

•Tried to show him my camera roll for a change, he got board and went back to showing me his.

•Accidently punched me in the face.

•Made me cry. (Separate incident).

•slapped me with a bit of stale bread. (Trying to stop the tears)

•Think I heard him call my white ass the fucking N word!?! (We're both Scottish).

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"Shhh" I whisper to my 58 shot hell scene, "it's okay, I won't let them take you from me".

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I'm choosing to trust him. I'm choosing to believe he is good. Because I want good. Because I want to experience it. I want to offer me, honestly and unfiltered. You can only love someone as much as your willing to grieve them. Im gonna get close enough to let him hurt me, because I trust him not to.

[your-third-favourite-nipple]

Sometimes, I think I'm a lesbian. Other times, boys look at me - sparkles in their eyes- and I wanna decapitate them. Catch me using the head as a football, the announcers all like; "Annnd she strikes, she scores".

I can't be gay then. That's what loves like with men. Claiming something sparkly. Those bouquets of flowers have been dying since they were picked.

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I am a quarter boy - on my dad's side

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They should let me in all of the buildings - just to look - because I am pure of heart

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Cargo pants?!?! Mate, wit you on- car go vroom vroom.

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Sorry kitten whiskers! Daddy took a fucking Black Magic to the goddamn eye socket, now I'm seeing in French.

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Denmark?

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Tracy Chapman's fast car but it's just me running really fast with a licence plat around my neck.