I’m really not having a very good day. I feel quite lonely, quite detached from the world. It’s half past two and I’m stuck at my desk alone when I want to be at home, or in a park, anywhere; just looking at trees or the sky or drinking coffee with some music on, and my latest notebook beside me. Living a productive life for once, not this endless plodding pedestrian routine. I think I look too much to others to make life feel worthwhile, and am thus invariably disappointed. Nothing seems to have any meaning. It’s all so arbitrary.