But This Is a Life So Consider The Sea.

I'm not sure what I'm going to say, I never really sure of that anymore.

I've realized I have a stutter, worse than I thought it was. I wonder if I could get William Beckett to help me get over it.

As I write I'm sitting in a hotel room at the Radison Hotel, coughing every thirty seconds (apparently it's not as often as it seems). I'm supposed to be visiting my Grandpa and Step-Grandmother. He's talking to my mom and my step-grandmother is watching The Young and The Restless on the big-screen TV.

Oh it's good to know my step-Grandmother can't remember my name. It's been sixteen and a half years I've been alive and she can't remember my fucking name? Really? I knew you didn't like my part of the family but you could at least try and pretend to give a shit. I'm you're fucking family and you agreed to be a part of that when you married my grandfather 24 years ago.

I'm still trying to get over this sickness, I'm un-officially saying I have Justin Beiber, A condition that makes my voice sound pubecent and whiney, but also makes me cough.

On a plus side to that, I'm using my ab muscles, which is kinda making them exist for once.

I'm having a few issues that I won't discuss, mostly because I'm trying to get around them before they become full problems.

Anyway, know I'm being made fun of by my mother so I best go.