I had chicken and vegetable soup and a cup of tea. The house is empty and my mind is ticking, ticking.

I want a cream volvo, with flowers lining the back window. I want it to get so hot in summer, that our heads hang out the rusty windows as we tempt fate.

I wish I could remember what I liked but I like nothing and nothing likes me.

She ate rose petals, because they tasted like her soul, bitter.

It's overcast and there is a chill in the air. I haven't done anything today. In a minute or three, I'll hang the washing. There are blackbirds in the tree and I know, whatever I do, will hurt you.

I woke up not long ago. Made toast with lashings of butter and some jam. The pot of tea brewing. I have decided one step at a time, so let's start with breakfast.

I can't do this. darn.