Real a Journal

 Each evening, we watch an episode of series 2 of The Trip then an episode of series 2 of Guilt. Tonight is the last . .

I want to journal but not think about words.

I am all played up. I am tucked in and gutted up and mucked .

There the sun must dripp me to the Lincoln street. They all fight like the memories of life, my sight, internal external 

Blue finish Work. This is accurate. The humans have names. I am registered.

      In middles of nights, no matter can resist I flock in the music Bibles. 

So many choices, too many gone, sucking grass at 2 or 3 or 4 PM.

The angry weather punts me in the every other Person I am a part of Lives.

Now see, the loot interrupt 

We sad day, belong in miserable time, okay future because art actualise

       tin succumb, feel All hospital .

I love Our hope happens

Save derek , forget dust in the thin air

I monkey Make the miracle Sweat true organs

bastard , Women

      Surprise, I can leave, No one or Everyone 

Bye at the End.

...

02:05 am