28th February 1671

In early morning dolphin littered seas we passed by a lighthouse long gone to ruin, huge black owls with human faces watched us, throwing out warnings and bearing their teeth. 'Pass on by' , 'Remember us not' they seemed to say. Later we came across a man who had been tied to a buoy for two hundred more years, his empty seagull ravaged face spat and shouted 'The barnacles have me, choose your future well' . The sea is a monster, I pray for mad weather to take me to land,.

27th February 1671

I have given nothing and asked for less, All those who know me are flotsam and jetsam on a minimal shoreline and still I breath and wonder and ask. The world turns through clocks and stars and nothing in peticular, I curse dim salted sailors and lobsters who hang on every word. Bring on the mad sea, bring on the surf and tide and twist of life lived upside down, give me an end that I can see and trust and a story written large.

26th February 1671

A note to myself in future times : Steamboat crewsmen are salty and dim and believe dolphins to be a type of fruit. We set sail at first light out into the endless ocean dragging clouds on pieces of string in our wake. I have no clear idea of where we are going and felt sad waving the sobbing lobsters goodbye, but the future is a bright country the likes of which I have not seen, the shadows must be kept at bay.

25th February 1671

Reached the shore just as the sun had burnt through the ocean, hundreds of rusted robots lay half submerged in the sand, all pointing out to sea. I sat lonely in the surf while many lobsters giggled and knitted me a coat of seaweed. 'The sea has you'  they seemed to say 'let the ocean take you home'.

24th February 1671

I fear strangers at every turn, I dream endlessly of  metal objects in large empty rooms tying me to the past. I am dying, I know I am dying.My soul walks beside me, head bowed, arms outstretched.

23rd February 1671

Weather changes swiftly and clouds drift out of sight, These days of open roads and clown thickened hedgerows would trouble the happiest of hearts. I must make towards the sea, feel salt air upon my face. I came across a battered sign.. 'Under Deadwood Peacocks Flew' The future is open, the past is a broken home.

22nd February 1671

Spent A night's fitful sleep under a pale, pipe smoking moon while the loonies shouted and shreiked in the far off distance. In the morning I walked across the great battlefield where the War Of  The Barbershop Quartets had come to its bloody, close harmony singing conclusion.

21st February 1671

Today I came across a frail naked man alone in the desert, he told me he was the messiah of some long ancient god, though bearded and thin he was strangely calm and beautiful. He told me he was fasting for forty days and forty nights to heal mankind's pain, I told him it would end in tears.

20th February 1671

This morning I set of across the endless desert of trees carrying only my sandwiches and a spade. Curious Clock Children gaze at me from the half buried grandfather clocks which happen upon my way. Though tired and filled with regret my soul could drift on this cold winter air forever.

19th February 1671

The clarity of morning brought homelessness and an army of grasshoppers who fed me and washed my hair. I whiled away the afternoon arguing with apples and contemplating wasps. By tomorrow my purpose will be made clear.

18th February 1671

I stood during twilight hours and watched the place of my birth burn relentlessly to the ground. As I gazed back upon the wreckage of my life I felt a curious feeling of loss. 'Hanta oll Senada' as my butler would have said, had he not been in the still burning house, tied to a chair.

17th february 1671

I spent the morning in the great hall watching lonely scarecrows dance upon the rain drenched horizon. I am no longer sure of my place in this life. The war which rages relentlessly outside is nothing compared to that which rages in my soul.

16th February 1671

The timely death of Emily has left my life a hollow shell, and when the bonfires fade and the harsh light of morning wipes all darkness from the sky, I will be left with nothing but sadness and regret.

15th February 1671

There are stranger things in this world than even I could imagine. Dreamt of fallen stars and blueberry bushes and awoke to find my body transformed into an arrangement of vegetables. The cold wind of death has blown upon me, I sense danger in every step.

14th February 1671

Dined with the Morning Star in his palace high above the plains of hell. His choice of wine is as always exceptional although his 'corpse finger trifle' left something to be desired. We talked at great length about his ongoing feud with Solomon the caretaker of the Moon whom he mistakenly believes to have started a rumor regarding wooden teeth and the Centenary Spider,I know he is mistaken as the rumor was started by me. He is an extremely stupid and unpleasant man.

13th February 1671

Taking the form of a lion I spent much of the day hunting Zebra upon the great African plains while the sun continued its ancient dance across the sky. I felt powerful and free but no doubt guilt will descend upon me by morning.

12th February 1671

I drank wine beneath the world's tree today,It was there I met a group of wasps dining on honey and flower petals. We lit a bonfire and sang ancient insect ballads. They later told me stories of the great wasp kings who shaped the world into the place we know it as today.

11th February 1671

I cannot remember a time when I did not dream of sharing a fairground ride with Duke Ellington and his skeletal orchestra, today my dream came true.

10th February 1671

I spent the day exploring the ever expanding gardens which occasionally surround my home. I walked among the ancient statues and strange follies while the voices of a thousand public school boys, long dead whispered vague threats and obscenities in my ear.

9th February 1671

I have fallen in love with the ghost of a dead sparrow, she is called Emily and she died in France sometime during the Revolution. She is effortlessly beautiful in a way that only a dead french sparrow can be. She gives me a warm and shimmering glow inside, in return I give her worms.

8th February 1671

Today I followed a crumbling graffiti marked wall through the streets of a city I did not know, we sat by an oily river and talked of masonry and starfall and dropped sparrows into the depths to see if they would sink.

7th February 1671

Began to talk openly about my fear of clocks. I walked silently through the rain as the limbless casualties of both world wars looked on, bowing their heads as I passed. I ate my sandwiches in an abandoned railway station raised into the air by the cemented robotic butlers of the Russian Tsars.

6th February 1671

I was chased through an empty field by the ghosts of the Black and White Minstrels today.Some of them were shrieking in strange in strange high pitched voices while others sang 'Old Man River' while they ran. I only escaped with the help of the fantastic Mr Fox who led me to a disused subway where I hid until they passed.

5th February 1671

I awake within a giant warehouse which seems to have been abandoned for some time. The walls extend in all directions, seemingly forever. Every now and then I catch sight of something or someone racing between the pillars. On the ground are boxes filled with 14th century royal wedding mugs. Upon each pillar hangs a grotesque clay face, under each face is printed the word 'Regret',some faces appear to be crying.Out of the corner of my eye I see and old woman dressed in a blue apron and hairnet, she is sitting at a sowing machine, softly humming a song I do not know.

4th February 1671

Met with the grand council of Spiders who reside among the great drainage systems to the north. They believe the time of the Great Spider has come and that the old world will soon be buried beneath cobwebs, this sounds suspiciously similar to what the council of cockroaches told me last year.

3rd February 1671

Today I came upon a group of skeletons reenacting the massacre of Glen Coe. They offered me food and shelter and by way of thanks I killed them as they slept.

2nd February 1671

My transformation into a mouse is almost complete.I discovered a new corridor within the west wing today,it smelt faintly of Scotland, Im not sure if roses grow in Scotland. My quest is never ending, my moral is low.

1st February 1671

I awoke to find myself gazing at a strange landscape,odd creatures with long necks stroll among the distant trees swatting at the occasional bird which happens upon their way, far away green lights drift aimlessly upon the horizon. As I look down I realize that someone has stolen my shoes.I cannot remember who