Dear Diary,
Whilst wistful woeful lamentation of the exotic eastern fox fled far from feeling, thought, I boarded the bus. A couple of foreign travellers were seeking the way to Avebury, Crop Circles, Stonehenge, and the Old White Horse. I thought they might be homeless squatters: they were. I stupidly paraded them through the tiny town, in the midst of a carnival and fair. They stuck out like a sore thumb. The whole town eyed us with suspicion, as if to say "There goes the neighbourhood!" Backpacks and tents, carrier bags and hippified garments, I went to see a close friend of mine. Leaving the German and Spaniard down t'road. My friend wasn't up for a visit. I went back to bid them goodbye. Stayed for some watermelon. We parted ways amicably. I stupidly went back to my friends house. This brought down a lot of heat, we were stopped by the rozzers as a result. Nightmare.
All was not lost however, before we parted ways, the Spaniard was a keen philosopher hobo, the German too had many interesting theories. Amongst which was some discussion of ideas so far out no-one might comprehend, only the very open minded. New-Age (Pseudo?) Science.
Maxx.
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