19th Birthday Entry 129
Cultural event
91
21/4
21/4
April 21st, Y91
Monday
19 freaking years old. I'm not sure how I'm meant to feel abou tit. Part of em feels like I could be doing something, making something of myself. But Milton said what more could I make of myself. "You're a fucking prince, what's the next step? Regicide?" I didn't find it funny. Gran dying is one of my biggest fears, one I will doubtlessly have to face one day.
Since it's Monday, Milton can't come down to London, but Renés coming up from Paris tomorrow. We're getting destroyed. I need a bit of oblivion I think.
Yeah. Happy fucking birthday.
