Well, then. I suppose I should start counting days, so here is the number: 24.
Tomorrow is the longest day in the year and soon it'll begin to shorten again. The very thought makes me feel uneasy. Threfore I should spend this day somewhere away from the city but it'll be unlikely so. Maybe some other time I'll celebrate it properly, with fire and dancing and such.
Generally am drifting through each and every passing day without any impessive achievements. At this point, even getting out of bed before eleven, might be considered as one. I do some cycling though, and I think I'll be in dire need of a bike when I finally join my Boy. There is some enthusiasm in me, when I think about leaving this place, but than again, I know that with time it'll diminish. It depends greatly upon my work, and plans for the future. Of course, assuming, that there WILL BE some future, not gianormous apocalypse. If so, still got about six months to enjoy ourselves. Sometimes I think that it would be marvellous if we were all blown to smithereens, or sunk or whatever, as humankind deserves to be punished by Nature, for it's impudence and stupidity beyond measure.
More likely though, it'll be a process of economical collapse, which already started and begins to consume one country after another. To such thing we can prepare ourselves. Building a smallhold, self-sufficient by all means-it isn't that hard after all, however it requires some nerves to battle beurocracy. It can be done as various examples show. I am ready to live in a hobbit hole.
With each passing year my disdain for people and what surrounds me, strengthen. And I do not expect to feel much better in U.K., as a matter of fact my misantrophy may worsen. I don't want to generalise, but it is plainly visible, that in England education became less important and the overall standard of schooling is much to be desired. Youngsters don't read books. They finish their education in their teens and become cheap labour, and after some time they turn into adults without priorities, spending all they money on binge drinking, drugs and items of general desire. And then they REPLICATE and live off benefits. Sometimes, they breed even earlier, which is a visible sign, that parents don't talk to children about such vital things as sex.
Where is the spirit of England? Where is this empire, which used to shape the history of the World?
I wonder, will I ever find place to call home?
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