Back in London, sat at my mother's desk. Writing this post purely so I can stop feeling guilty about not writing it.
So much has happened since I've last written here. I've been living in the van now for 15 months. I've been half way around the country, and we even went to Europe. We caught on fire. We are officially thieves. We're vegan now, we being Steve and I, Steve being the stove. I have a stove. I'm more spiritual. Less aggressive. Still sad. Adventuring wherever the day takes me. Have van; will travel. Personal motto. I've been lied to and deceived. Replaced and forgotten. Revered and worshiped. Those were good times. I've played games a plenty. Eaten glorious food and sat around many a fire. I've drank more than usual, yet stopped smoking for 8 months. I'm learning the ocarina now, and I walk around in robes. Less washing. Result. Bored of part-time boyfriends, looking for someone to tolerate on a semi-permanent basis. Currently addicted to tomatoes. Still want a castle, a tree house and to live in the mountains. Or my own mountain. My ears don't like mountains. I drove through the Pyrenees. Amazing, looked like a packet of Toblerone. I can't eat them anymore. They've got sugar and cow juice in it. Still scared of cows, and I've thoroughly established I'm scared of bats too. Met a taxidermist. That was weird. Seeing a tiny dead bad did not help. Through away a metric fuckton of possessions and feeling good for it. Still making natural skin cream. Still insane, not rich enough to be eccentric. Song of the week: Satie - Gnossienne 3.