Not feeling so good today. All bird's eye blue broken, five steps into things I shouldn't be doing and staying, staying there, carving out a bad space. This is your job, jack, this is your life. Where do you splinter? Damn it, why is this page dso empty? I smell. Stale. Stale and wrong. Splinters and wire. I should have used peppermint, and let the St John's Wort alone. Coffee grounds in the sink, broken books on the floor, unpaid bills and undrawn scripts. Unloveable. Like dead bacon. Green and lonely. Nothing saying. Marigold. Lucid listings. Flight. Shadow me because I need to go out back for a moment. Why is this page so empty? At least the plastic covers are on now. Children outside singing along with the ambulance sirens. Phone Shelley before 12, edit down the award ceremony, finish Susan's changes, or all is lost. Somebody's coming, twisted knot. Abstraction of blue sub-orbital time, the scissor man's in town, who wants to run away? The cracks in June all Polyfilla-ed flat, it's all white now, grimy grey-white, the colour of uncoloured endpapers, of a no-sun dawn. Crucial life-skills off-line. Development of assessment and reasoning abilities to aid self-empowerment failing. End of pass.