GOD! THIS ROOM OF MINE IS FUCKING ME OFF! THE LACK OF SPACE FACILITATES DISARRAY.
THAT’S IT! FUCK IT! BOLLECKS! THERE’VE BEEN TONNES OF SPIDERS AROUND IN RECENT DAYS. AND I HATE THEM!
WHAT WILL I DO?
THAT’S IT. FUCK IT. GET RID OF ALL THESE COMICS ‘N’ STUFF. FUCK IT!
THEN I’LL TIDY UP FOR THE FIFTH TIME THIS WEEK. THEN I’LL RIG MY LITTLE LAMP UP AGAIN. I HAVEN’T HAD THAT SET UP SINCE APRIL, AND MY WRITING THE DIARY IN BRIGHT LIGHT DOESN’T HAVE THE SAME MYSTICAL MOOD…
‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ – SWANS
GOD! LAST NITE’S DREAMS WERE CRAAAAP.
IN ONE, MARCBOLAN WAS ACTUALLY ALIVE AFTER ALL + WAS TELLING ME ALL ABOUT HIS NEW SINGLE: ‘MY MOTHER’S SO FUNNY SHE SHOULD BE IN PRINT’ (WHAT?).
AND IN THE NEXT DREAM, JACK + I WERE WALKING ALONG IN WEST WALTON IN THE DARK, HOPING TO CATCH A BUS INTO WISBECH. WE GOT IT EVENTUALLY AND GOT INTO WISBECH WHERE WE MET OUR PARENTS WHO DROVE US BACK TO AN ABSOLUTELY BRAND NEW BUNGALOW IN WHICH WE WOULD BABYSIT FOR CHIP.
WHAT ARE MY DREAMS COMING TO?!
ONE OBSERVATION: I’VE DREAMT A LOAD ABOUT BUYING STUFF LATELY + SHOPPING, WHICH ALL SEEMS TO HAVE THEN DEVELOPED INTO TRAVEL STUFF + NOW ALL MY DREAMS SEEMS TO BE SET AT NIGHT TIME – SHOCK!
‘All Fired Up’ – Pat Benatar
Y’know what pleased me about ROCKY HORROR? The fact that all the kinky underwear Gemma wore was her own. She’s ordered tonnes from Ann Summers. VA-VOOM!
Today, I wrote to Emma and posted it.
PREDICTION MAGAZINE has lots to say about my life over the next week: substantial improvement in my personal circumstances, positivity, finances, the need to take a bold outlook, echoes of the past, possible good fortune, etc. But I mustn’t let luck or success go to my head, or act recklessly, or put too much faith in what people are telling me.
My No.1: ‘Ocean (The Lure of Love)’ by Ash
Bye Bye xxx
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Next time: ‘The Return of Angie Jones…’