There are a lot of things that I detest about this skin s**t. One of them is laying in bed, and scratching all night. This itching you cannot imagine. You scratch yourself bloody, and it still doesnt stop.

I get up, dead. I sit over this stupid Dowland music, the time passes, and I cannot do it. All these failure thoughts pop in my head, I already start to think of things to say to “excuse” myself, for not being able to play the music AGAIN.

I get to my lesson. This stupid dry air makes my eyes water, I look like I am crying. I look at my guitar teacher and swear (here I remember my religion teacher saying “Connie dont swear, its a sin”) that I am not crying, I know he doesnt believe me.

We start to play. I cant even play the melody voice. I say I am completly out of place. He looks at me bewildered. He sais lets play the concert pieces, I say I cannot do them. We play the duet, none of us can do it. We get a laugh out of it, I leave.

I get home and should study, very badly and a lot. I go to bed instead, and sleep like a rock, preparing for yet another sleepless night.

I hate my skin.