Isn't it disorientating when you meet someone who used to be pretentious and scornful to find they are now interesting, courteous and pretty damn hot?

My weekend starts on a Thursday this week. Still shattered from yesterday's ludicrous excursion to Bexleyheath, which somehow involved me cycling there from Becton. It's a wonderful ride, especially over the docks with Canary Wharf on my right and City Airport on my left, then across the river on the Woolwich Ferry. That part of the river is grey and grimy, with run down industrial estates and '70s tower blocks on both sides, but it's strangely beautiful. Like being stuck in some dusty, sombre time warp. Sadly it took me an hour and a half. Was so horribly achy I left my bike there and took the train back. Got home at 11.20 and my bike is still there. At some point I'm going to have to go and get it. Damn.

Manchester is such a beautiful city. I may go to university there. Saturday was alive and blazing hot and inspirational.

I feel so lonesome now. Haven't really seen or spoken to anyone, partly because they're all busy doing recreational drugs at uni and partly because my phone is broken.

At least I have music, charcoal and crunchy nut cornflakes. They're ludicrously tasty, you know....
x