I try to be poetic and it never works. No wonder why I never read my poetry at the readings, and decide to instead listen to others. I miss my poetry bar. The Black Cat. Much more homey than Dante's but Renee liked Dante's more. They served alcohol. Her Absinthe. Besides, Lou is there.
I for one, am never touching absinthe again. Though I did enjoy my tango, thank you.
We had a sleepover last night and we'll have another one tonight. One I know will probably not be interrupted by a ringing mobile. Not that I'd mind if it was, of course.
I'm glad I brought the thing WITH me.
I think I shall have my first night of full sleep since I arrived.
I also have a brand spanking new drawing of myself. But only Renee will get the honour of seeing it. I think she'll find it delectible. At least, I hope she will. She likes the word delectible.
My head hurts and my eyes hurt and my heart hurts.
I sent a letter to Father Peter. I hope he gets it. I want to see him. Not just because I have a lot of things to tell him but also...he's like...the only father figure I've ever had. And I think...something like this just makes me want my Daddy. But if he's not there when I get home, Pierre will be. And Steph. I don't know who else. And then I can go to the hospital and see my Renee. She might be awake by then. She might not. I'll sit with her and read her favourite book to her. I should ask someone to pick it up for me. Of course...it's at her house.
And, My Liss, it looks like I shall be in London for your party afterall. I think everyone could use a party. I have the best present for you, Lovely.