My Diary: A Chorus Without The Rest Of The Song

I called to June when I discovered a hand instead of a head on my shoulders‭; ‬she held onto to it just as I steadfastly hold onto the notion of a universal spirit.‭ ‬I hope to prove it one day like King Harold with thought arrows buzzing round his head.‭ ‬I knew today was going to turn bad when the black clouds in the hall made an odd number instead of an even‭ ‬-‭ ‬if it had been even they would have rained.‭ ‬After a nonexistent breakfast we had to let the astral explorer go.‭ ‬Before we did I said I would come and find her‭ ‬-‭ ‬and I will.‭ ‬As the reality we are trapped in stopped for an advert break‭ (‬underwear that forms a new continent when floated on a shallow sea and pencils you can eat if you want to draw with a ginger biscuit‭) ‬I imagined everyone having fish for eyes although some fish can feel but not see.


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