So ok I’m gonna write because I need practice and I believe one does indeed get better with practice…so what should I write about? Well, how do I feel? Ok, signore. Throat a tad sore, but otherwise I’m pretty good. M & Dysk approaching (poss. by rail) for lunch, which should be ok. Had an argument of sorts with the veiled homeboy day before yester so he may come, many not, we shall see. He dispatched a letter shortly after which I received this morning, something to the affect of ‘stop thinking about yourself and stop drinking’. Good advice, rather on spot in fact. One must not brood on the past. I must learn that not brooding and denying the past are two very different things. Brooding is bad, just as burying things is bad, so one must attain a happy medium. Man dem Greeks wiz raaht blad, evvie ting in moderation, git mi? See it ain’t hard. Sit down, start writing and soon cometh a gurry of fluff. I am astoundingly hungry and also contemplating a cheeky starter can. ‘tis 10.55am so in no wise early for thou-rs soothly, but I pause. Fuck it, I’ll take a drink, soothe the epiglottis. L8rz.
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