This is home, this shoddy flat in Southsea/Eastney, with the cold kitchen divided from the lounge by the red framed windows and doors. The grubby white kitchen with the dirty hob and the crumbs on the floor. The ice monster growing in the top of the fridge occasionally melting into the salad compartment where the orange juice is kept. Above the fridge sit two boxes of vegetables, one mine, one Nick’s. Ingredients for the week. The shelves next to the cooker hold the staples – dried fruit, pasta, rice, muesli, spices, herbs, millet, bulgar, in jars and bags. It’s all clean enough in the kitchen, but if it was mine it wouldn’t be like that.

Today has been spent:

1. Sleeping
2. Slowly waking up
3. Breakfast
4. Phoning in sick
5. Radio in bed
6. Sleeping
7. Wash
8. Yoga
9. Computer and music
10. Writing this

Can’t quite work out how amazing this whole internet thing is. Unique in this world. Global communication without censorship.