The Importance Of Being Flat

First time I woke up today, I had a swollen belly, churning spitefully with acids, and was violently sick, twice. Second time, I had no belly whatsoever. It must be the wheat.

I haven't eaten any wheat for going on a fortnight. Everything is made of wheat. Certainly everything lunchy. I guess I lived on lunchy most of my life.

I can't see today - my contacts fell out last night, and my glasses are broken, and the blutac that held them together just don't seem to cut it anymore. I guess its pretty interesting, this whole guessing one's way about thing. I am relying on instinct. Usually, my instinct is ace, but I guess it must stink sometime.

London, it has to be said, is prettly bleak, through the blur. But some things, even in the grubby dark of the pre-dawn, look beautiful. People spend their whole lives looking for clarity. I don't know if its worth it.