—China 2025. 23/5.—

..

Dear diary.

I have hope.

..it sounds stupid. but I have hope.

I need to be good today. I need to score high. A p4.. even podium would be nice. My points are- merda fottuta. bassa.

If I want to do- challenge the title..

The fucking McLarens are rockets. But I can’t lack. I must be better than them.

I must be better than myself, above all.

.

Dear god,

se riesci a sentirmi papà, Jules,

.. dammi pietà.

For once, let me be happy. After a weekend.

For once, let me not tire myself and cry to sleep late. It makes my face bloated-

Let my hope end in peace.

Not misery.

Pleasee.

..

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥: ~P4~ P3.

---

After the race.

---

—after, 5pm—

Dear diary.

…

Maybe it was my fault having hope. Or being so philosophical.

Buuuuut- I don’t think I did horrible. Hey! I had a broken front wing- and I was reaaally fast. I’m happy. Not pleased.

The Mercedes is also pacey now.

They were over 0.508 seconds faster in the corners, and had more traction in the turn 12 and 14 then they..

Ugh. I’ll do it later. I’m tired and my sweat is dripping onto the paper…ew..

I really need to pee. And eat, I’m hungry. Not bad though..scored points..beat my teammate..eh.

I need to do better.

I’ll update- actually yea- I’ll update my schedule, I’ll do more sims on Mondays.

Oh and Max- wait-

Why is the marshals calling me in? per l'amor di Dio, datemi una pausa-

---

CAR 16, CAR 10 AND CAR 44 HAVE BEEN DISQUALIFIED.

---

..

I need help.

I can’t do this again.

mamma, ferrari, per favore.

perché continuo a fallire?

WHY.

It’s really over. __

Charles closed the book. Throwing it away. .

He sighed. Tears in his eyes.

Just when he was somewhat content. It gets ripped away.

like how he was ripping his skin open again.

Great.

He hated failure.

..

He fell asleep, on the floor after.

A while later, someone else entered the room.

"What the-" They muttered.

Almost tripping on something

What was that- a book?

Curious, they reached down to pick up the diary.