Oh, what dreams did I have last night, when the five or so hours of tossing and turning finally tired me. Such a strane loop of waking into new dreams, such warmth, beauty, hope and sadness. And it was so sad to wake. Into this life. I have to appologise for all the nonsense, but I am afraid this transpired to be far from the rejuvinative weekend I was looking forward to. I can't even balance it out with an At Least, because that has yet to transpire. While I did have some things I had thought cement themselves in the abbey of my brainhole, this hardly helps my current predicament.
But I believe that one must sometimes endure these things, to reap the rewards that lie on the other side. And that the thing I am fighting for will be all the greater as a result. I've told you before what it is that I believe in. And that stands today, surer than ever.
But I realise that I have not helped myself by ignoring my stomach since Friday afternoon. I shall buy a sandwitch at the next Services and put the shreiking tarpit out of its churning misery.
Indeed. For we are back on the road again. Tonight we play Bristol Accademy. I shall summon up a mighty RAH!