Just found this is a really old journal when I first began to write......
'The red velvet scruffs its' creepy little hairs over my feet. I boke with the sensation. No wonder it is crushed, it deserves such a defeat. The air is damp in the room, like sitting in a cold sauna. Pete Doherty rings in my ears, consuming the decibels in the air. A swallow darts and dives in the setting sky. Like a swift arrow he swoops with concentrated intensity - quite the acrobat. My mind is full of thoughts that I can't express. I've just decided right this second that I'm going to write more - everyday perhaps.'
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