I Don't Feel Like Going Out

I don't feel like going out unless I'm making money anymore. I spent all year last year outside, day in and day out.

Mike is sleeping, and Luke is probably going to soon, and I should probably just watch a movie. Maybe I'll make money through here. I want to go outside and get high but the fucking balcony door is so damn loud when I open it, and it wakes Mike up, and Mike, unfortunately, is sleeping in the living room because his room is too hot. I saw an Air Con in his room but I guess he hasn't fixed it yet.

We did a "photo shoot" yesterday; yours truly is becoming a cam girl. I want to be the best at it and make lots of money. I made €350 last Friday night it was, losing my anal virginity to this weird American dude named Seth. Seth was 42, at least it said on his profile. This other dude from the States sent me $25 American today so that's good...we were going to cam but he ran out of time.

I've been in the house for nearly three days now? Today Mike dragged me out to go shop and for a glass of wine at this outdoor bar by a skate park but I like being inside these days. I don't know when I stopped liking sunlight so much but I did, and I'm fine with it, I simply have more energy at night, the sun is kind of draining.

I miss techno music. There is no techno music here, I don't think. I've only gone out once, it was a few nights ago and it was after I more or less got fired from my very non-legitimate job at a strip club. The women in there fuck for 80 Euros and suck for 60. Lots of Romanians. I went to some London bar and asked if I can work there as a bartender before altercations at work, and so I can do that just about whenever I feel like it.

I'm currently reading Breakfast at Tiffany's. Holly reminds me of me. I almost want to go and take Mike's car keys out of his pocket and go for a drive but there is no motive in that really, no purpose, no money making.

I'm trying to find a sugar daddy to take me to Dubai, to set me up with an apartment. That's what I want right now.

Seth wants me to come over again on Sunday, he wants to only pay €150! It so sucks cause it's so little but it's my easiest option. Weird too cause when I'm truly in the mood for making money, that's so good, but he lives kind of far. I guess I should consider it. I wonder if "more money more problems" is legit.

I talked to some dude in Dubai over video-chat the other day, and he told me he offered a very poor Indian family a gift or something they wanted cause he's rich and he wanted to do something good, and they replied with did we ask for something? Come have dinner with us. They didn't want anything.

Today was shit, just cause I didn't do anything productive, at all. I should probably go with Mike tomorrow for this thing he's filming... I think it's a commercial? Not sure, for Rolls Royce!

I met Mike last year in Ibiza, he's a sweet English man from a rural place called Somerset who has degrees in computer stuff and media and photography. Mike is, I think, 34. He called me down to Malaga, and after I had an abortion and a weird assistant job went weird in London with me just now three weeks ago, I came down to make this portfolio.

Life has so many drugs to offer, sober drugs. Well, weed really isn't a drug, we always say, but... it is. Affects your mood; coffee's a drug too. Uppers, downers. Uppers, downers. I wonder if God actually has a plan. Cause if God has a plan, then wouldn't every single action be under his plan? Every single movement? I like to think this sometimes. But it's better not to, apparently.