Awful

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was a bloody nightmare in both the waking world and in dream-land. My Lord! First off, sulky step-mum exploded into screaming hysterically with her venomous tongue, like you wouldn't believe! I wanted to check to see if she wasn't inhuman, some sort of evil android perhaps, she was that bad. Oh my giddy aunt. Shrieking at the top of her lungs, every word was like licking a razor blade coated in honey, pure poison. Gulliver's old-dear raised him under the sound principle, “If you can't say anything nice: don't say anything at all.” I wish someone would explain this to the harridan wicked step-mother. For eight hours solid each and every word that came forth from her tongue was venomous. It is horrid. She even dug her keys into him. Father and I were philosophical about it. I told him in French that I cannot speak to that woman in English any more. This morning is no different. Dad is at work, and I am subject to more verbal abuse.

In between time I experienced an awful nightmare where I went to visit my ex-missus in a rural loony bin. She attacked my groin with a pair of scissors, just before I awoke.

On the other hand, yesterday I rediscovered the magnificence of Abelard and Heliose. They are beacon of peaceful light in a whirlwind of mayhem.

Today I am supposed to be practicing for the recording. Having only just awoke, I am not truly in the mood for playing rock 'n roll with electrickery.

Max.