Drunk in the morning. Well, I guess noon is morning for me. Just me and the cats here, and, of course, the ubiquitous wine and freestanding velbloud. I played rummy with Michal last night. It was brilliant. I hope to see Patricia tonight, but hope is a bland thing. I’ve had no dreams that I can recall since returning from Maja. Perhaps the alcohol snuffs them. I should go to work. Oh, GOD, life is bitter and absurd. Now it is time for my final cigarette.
Are lives I live so circulatory? I am here with five friends - five is the maximum I have ever felt that I could relate to. And they talk about the music as Patricia crunches Křupky. I should not be so cynical. Viking attempts to explain about our time in Průhonice and I just returned from the toilet, have realized that I am a stranger, as usual. Viking calls this book a bible; perhaps it shall be, if I encourage all of my friends to scribe within it.
The rain precludes me
As I shiver in this pub
Listening but mute
I am fading away…
It’s been a long problem with me - I cannot associate with people perfictly. You think that you understand, BARBORKO?
