On the way home through the ruins I wave to the ghosts far beyond – 15th June 1994

Romantic summer days are here, away from the rush and push of offices and ungentlemen.

Here today, I am sat in my favourite long wide valley, next to a muddy old excuse for a duckpond. A scattering of houses, barns and farms make up this community that probably hasn’t changed in 100 years. Only thing new here is tarmac and pylons –something we are now anaesthetised to. These are the places of fairytales, fables and folklore. The old crooked fence, the run down barn, birds a-chattering and flapping by. And people – where are they? Lazily making their way to the cows, I bet.

From one reality to another, with a brief sentence respite (this one).

Last night, me and my love dressed up in our rags for another punky party at the Joiners, where we videoed Thirst, The Harries and Broken Toys. I was feeling very unsocial after hurting my back carrying records to and fro and found myself with not much to say to anyone. Did I get my period again so soon? I wonder what it is that brings about this emotional unbalance in me.

And now today – I feel okay! Every morning I wake up bright and chirpy but by afternoon I’m a different difficult kettle of coconuts.

Another visit to the chiropractor today. Fun in the fundus. Go forth amongst men and be civil.

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