Dear diary.

Where the fudge is Taj Mahal ? But most importantly where  the fuck is my mom. These were the questions that were swirling  in my head when my mom sent me a picture of her, standing in front of a building / mosque/ castle  whatever with her poodle Chihuahua Tibbey with the caption...'Namaste Harry, you should visit Taj Mahal with me next summer. I miss you loads honey.' I swear she cares more about her dogs than she cares about her own son. So yeah after a lot of research turns out Taj Mahal is in India, it is actually a tomb built by a king for his queen aftee she died during childbirth...

What baffles me is how my mom is visiting honey moon icons. She probably  breaks down into tears ever times she sees a couple passing by. OH NO WAIT SHE IS THE LONER WHOM ALL THE COUPLE'S ASK FOR TO TAKE THE A PICTURE...just great if you asked me. She should go home, she failed at being a mom and a wife with her ignorance so I don't really blame my father for abandoning  her. I wouldn't want a wife like my own mother who cares more about appearance and manicure and pedicure. She should just go back to England  and deal with this in a mature manor because she is acting childish and wasting money well that phrase doesn't apply in her vocabulary.

My eighteenth  birthday is in fucking  three days. I'm not having a party, I have had so many it's not even special anymore. I have decided for my eighteenth  birthday, I am going to spend it in Nevada, Las Vegas with my four best buds. This weekend it's happening, money is not a problem with the state my mom is still in manipulating her into sending me a couple of thousand bucks will be quite easy. My grandfather and uncles back in England always send me cheques for my birthday. I figured I was tired of feeling sorry for myself and I'm going to go out and have fun. This is good for me, 'my parents just got divorce  two months ago' that's my excuse. I'm not talking to my dad, we had another arguement so whatever...

I don't even expect him to remember my birthday, maybe him and his Russian mistress are probably trying out for a baby ew. He had been so caught up with wedding plans, I figured he doesn't give a fuck about me. I refused to be part of the circus wedding, I would much rather be playing video games with Zayn or partying at Louis's house or probably fucking Sophia or rambling about my problems in on Twitter to Zaneh.

Sometimes I even forget I have a girlfriend...

H.