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Inside that glassy paradise.
I quite like my new flower. Gives me something to look at when I am daydreaming.
You get to spend your time looking at graffiti.
Overexposed too much in the centre but I like it. Train journeys on dreamy type days are best with curious cloud formations and The Frank and Walters.
Don't much feel like bothering with my "I, Claudius" right now, long and difficult to secure as it was. Don't feel like anything except daydreaming out this window. The world knows what it can do with itself right now.
Now let's see if this revolting country is going to give me some phone coverage.
Incidentally, phone mast and windmill the entire place. It's already incredibly ugly with obscene houses.
I see traffic jams and infrastructure and public transport! Hurray... I'm out of danger.
Well... anyone know what in hell these things are? I saw some earlier that looked like sweaters.
It's like slum squalor. No, slums have services sometimes. It's dire in this wilderness. Amenities! My kingdom for an amenity.
Let's see some phone coverage voodoo here now.
How do people survive out here? What madness drives them from the safety of the cities? Does anyone know? Has there been academic research on this?
Am very scared. Don't think I'll make it out.
Almost as great as leaving Cork.
Cruel cruel world. And all point in it disappeared at 5.53am this morning. Am deeply inconsolable.
What am I to do? How can I ever drink tea again?
Not to mention the book, blankets or bed.
Flu is what I deserve for hoovering my room.
So, what do you think? Should I find a French or a Turkish framer?
Me gotta find the Destroy Bios Crew.
Those white dots are Elvises. Somebody was clearly messing with my head.
Just don't get caught taking photos in the loo.
Disregard the Twitter and LOLcats propaganda. The truth stares you in the face. And hisses.