Bad Blood

Dear Diary,

I went there for friendship and leave on bad terms with the nut-bar. Apparently they're all out to get him. I suggested he seek healing, that we or he goes somewhere nice, out in nature, to be in tranquillity. His response? "So I can go and hang myself?!". In his befuddled estimation I am 'one of them'. Out to get him. It just goes to show, you try and be someone's friend only to discover spite and paranoia. This geeza is utterly deluded. Kidding himself. Living in a fantasy world of his own invention, with no sense of the world before him. It is sad, tragic in truth. I felt sorry for the old boy, but left on bad terms. Not cool man. Four years of friendship down the pan. No matter.

Another surprize happened to me on the way home. A character who described himself as 'a diamond in the rough' or rather a rough-diamond. Dodgy. A loveable-rogue. Upto no good. He came in ... quite handy, shall we say. Contact. Connection. Though I cannot judge the man, for service-sake, it feels guiltily good letting some spice into an otherwise dull night. Aye. We will drink deep of what remains. What a day. What a night. On the Flex.

Max-out.