Mamma Mia.
You may have noticed by now that almost every day here is a Monday.
A cleaner made weird noises as she rushed up the stairs.
I said "hello?"
I went down for breakfast.
I sat down and ate breakfast.
There was a fried egg, scrambled egg, beans, a triangular thing that tasted like potato and I think it's called a crumpet, I'm not sure. I added three tomatoes, and a sausage, and mushrooms. I also took a fruit bowl and some plain water.
Plain water is the only thing I drink, aside from fruit juice, most of the time. Sometimes I have tea that doesn't have caffeine in it.
Someone is cleaning the windows of the hotel room I'm in.
I think someone said "he's treating us like actors" when I was eating the meal.
Later on, I'm going to take pictures of the Magna Carta, then I'll go back home and then go to a comedy club, which I've been looking forward to.
I hate this chapter.
The book is now over.
—
...
Now people were angrily saying stuff about me thinking they're actors. I think. Or something about me not being a vegetable. I can't hear it properly so it probably doesn't matter.
Or they're just talking amongst themselves.
Yeah. So, according to my psychosis, there's government agents and they're saying repetitious approximations to a set number of phrases until I hear them everywhere. I think. And then there's random crap.
Someone by a station turned to me and said I was slow, at some point in the past, after I tripped up over a puddle.
Random person: "Oh really?"
The person: "that will definitely (...)"
Person: "it's good luck."
Me: yay.
—
I'm on the train back now. I think I feel a combination of intense happiness and something fuzzy. It's nice and peaceful.
(...)
I think I'm bored.
—
Music later:
"I can't change."
I'm charging my phone at a cafe waiting for it to get charged enough to get to a comedy club. Wish me luck.
