13th March 1671

I forget more than I remember and remember everything that I forget, except on wednesdays when I forget to remember the things I had forgotten  but I put that down to the drink, I passed by ancient fireplaces at a watering hole, troubled by wasps and bad karma and the knowledge that all will end in time. In the evening I fashioned a coat of leaves and chatted with swans as the moon drifted like a strange balloon above our heads.

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