My Diary: Still Waiting To Wake Up From A Bad Dream

I put a small part of the day under one of three shells and rearranged them‭ ‬-‭ ‬try as I might I couldn’t find this part of the day again and was extremely late getting into the room at the end of one thousand steps‭; ‬I sat down on the cat as I couldn’t find the chair.‭ ‬June.‭ ‬as is her want,‭ ‬went wing walking to the local shopping centre on the upper wing of a de Havilland Tiger Moth‭ ‬-‭ ‬she planned to come home on the lower wing but I decided to meet her half way and we had tea in the open cockpit.‭ ‬We got back to the dragon’s tail house so I could return to spreading margarine on whole wheat canvas and I quickly retired to the forward gun turret of HMS Nelson and played the digital piano up the central sixteen inch gun barrel.‭ ‬I composed a musical painting entitled‭ “‬The Broadside‭”‬.

My Diary: My Imagination On Another Planet Orbiting Another Sun

I had to swim in dry soil during the opening page of the morning‭; ‬June,‭ ‬as usual,‭ ‬skipped the boring bits,‭ ‬had a quick bath and went out.‭ ‬By the time I had found reliably wet land another hour had escaped my version of the morning‭ (‬carefully constructed on the bonnet of a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost‭) ‬along a fault line of my own making.‭ ‬June had constructed her world on a Model T Ford‭ (‬which had been crossed soon after the i had been dotted‭) ‬and was busy embracing the overtaking lights of a fairy tale dual carriageway.‭ ‬She rang me to talk in bright lights while shielding her eyes from the noise‭; ‬I returned the call,‭ ‬speaking the truth in boolean algebra and lies in the mythic scenery of Mount Parnassus just before a continually false dawn.

My Diary: Inventing Half A Character In Half A Story

I woke and found myself hanging from a thread like fruit on a tree‭ (‬if I was asleep I would have called the tree knowledge,‭ ‬as I was awake I called it the exoskeleton of an amoeboid protozoan‭); ‬June,‭ ‬who was busy turning random lengths of wood into a rudimentary supercomputer,‭ ‬cut the thread:‭ ‬all recollection was lost until I accidentally drew a circle like Giotto.‭ ‬I was just going to paint a fresco celebrating the life of St Francis of Assisi when the door was knocked from both sides at once and two little people tiptoe waltzed in.‭ ‬I continued their dance on the ceiling before falling out with the plastic chandelier and crashing to the sherry trifle of a floor as royalties to an anonymous author.‭ ‬The four of us went out onto the flight deck of a nuclear powered aircraft carrier and stood quite still.

My Diary: As Always It Is Better To Write A Book Than Read It

June stood like an obelisk as I went out with a friend to a land of rainbows,‭ ‬watching single spots of rain as if they were falling punctuation marks‭ ‬-‭ ‬when I got out of the car the sky was unreadable.‭ ‬I talked to a sundial even though it was overcast and then went back inside the pamphlet house‭ (‬it was nestled between several rows of novels,‭ ‬both soft and hardback‭)‬.‭ ‬My friend returned with sacks of‭ ‬disembodied voices in the boot of his Assyrian war chariot and I returned home to find June had gone‭; ‬although her pointed shadow remained.‭ ‬I went to question a questioner before settling in a chair and making up shapes for the remainder of the afternoon.‭ ‬It wasn’t long before the shapes were making up themselves and I could sit back and let them question my very existence.

My Diary: I Crush A Diamond And Form A Lump Of Coal

June got up to drink at a dried up river bed while I was still asleep in a tree.‭ ‬I was woken up by a woodpecker revving up his motorcycle and I then got the telephone number of a particularly attractive scarlet macaw‭ (‬she assured me she was single‭) ‬before coming down the stairs we have cleverly hidden inside a baobab trunk holding a piece of wood whittled into the shape of a branch.‭ ‬June dressed as a starfish and went out to meet a family of sea urchins.‭ ‬They went to town in a slowly moving puddle and I went into my studio with flippers instead of hands.‭ ‬When June came back I went out myself,‭ ‬this time with wings instead of arms‭; ‬crossing the river in a water pipe as the bridge was occupied by a tangled mass of metal‭ ‬-‭ ‬it had once called itself an angel.

My Diary: Feeling Old In A Cot

June wanted a day of baking gem stones and locked me out of the kitchen.‭ ‬Before working as a telegraphist for the Union Pacific railroad in the Eighteen Sixties I went out into the garden to talk to a number of Boer War soldiers busily reenacting the Siege of Mafeking in the rabbit hutch‭ (‬the rabbit having moved into a penthouse apartment on the South Coast‭)‬.‭ ‬One showed me a model of the USS Nautilus he kept in a tropical aquarium and then extolled the virtues of breeding veil tail guppies‭ ‬-‭ ‬in response I showed him a picture of myself as a young child in the company of a group of dog headed men.‭ ‬June came upstairs after lunch with a slice of cake she had christened Marie Antoinette‭ ‬-‭ ‬I went down later with an empty plate I christened Madame Roland.

My Diary: On Finding A Giant Apricot In The Hall

I sat in the shrubbery painting tiny targets on my nails and watching the dog try on a dress several sizes too big.‭ ‬June went to town shortly after,‭ ‬closely followed by a family of cannibalistic clocks‭ ‬-‭ ‬luckily she wasn’t wearing a watch.‭ ‬I was even less organised than usual and had a bath walking down the street,‭ ‬Poppy came down behind holding a towel.‭ ‬I was busily playing team games on my palette when June contacted me using rose petals borrowed from Heliogabalus.‭ ‬I followed the scent to town,‭ ‬collecting the entrails of a mechanical yak and the spare wheel from the wreck of the HMS Campleltown and then walked home,‭ ‬looking into every hole in the ground as I did so.‭ ‬However I was still surprised when a pair of empty hands emerged from an overgrown roadside hedge.