#53

It looks like I'll be going to the Church Fête alone. John is back in hospital and because of his breakout is once again under section. Whether he was here or not, I don't know and for the moment I am putting it out of mind. Until something prooves it either way, if it ever does, there's nothing I can do. I have a fish to look after and without me he would be dead. You could say, he needs me.

I tidied the apartment this morning. It was a hell of a job but had become urgent. With the build up of all the mess and rubbish a smothering claustrophobia was closing in, as if the place was slowly consuming me. For the first time in weeks I opened all the curtains and windows and let the day pour in. I felt exposed and uncomfortable, like the last thing I needed was daylight, but finally it done me well and now my head feels refreshed and clear.

Also I've decided I want to cheer this place up a bit. I'm thinking a few more window boxes, bright flowers, etc, something other than a fish to keep me occupied. Maybe even a tomato plant? Plus, the shit world would look so much better through African Blue Lilies and roses.

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(Oh, and yes, the 8” moulded penis was mine. Well, you didn't expect me to fuck the postboy did you?!)