My teeth are rotting in my mouth, and all about me flash the ominous comets and unfortunate omens and the potent stinking entrails of disaster. Still I guess, it could be worse; I could be drinking chartreuse, or else be one of those poor wretches so crushed by social expectation they are unable to express their personal twisted kinks and peculiar and very private infatuations with life. Never been much of a problem for this particular storm cellar obviously—I am incorrigibly unable to keep my trap shut even in the best of weather.

What is really happening? When did things go so horribly wrong? Gangs of impolite youths now roam our suburban shopping malls begging for cigarettes and bus money. Ordinary, decent, law-abiding citizens are afraid to go to sleep at night for fear of having nightmares. Something should be done. I say we hold a town meeting, host a seminar, inform the parents of the potential moral dangers possibly involved. The necessary steps must be taken, a bristle of far harsher penalties drafted into law, strict curfews enacted and social responsibility enforced and absolutely no broken rules or broken windows or any smiling on a school day allowed! without explicit permission from the governor or his closest deputised relative.

Grass won't grow on concrete, only in it's cracks. Wild, multicoloured growths tend to flourish only around the edges of things, clinging to the gaps, concealed nooks and overlooked crannies.

Lying awake at night, too wired to sleep, too fried to write, my thousand yard star fixed blankly at the back of my eyelids.

In the morning I wake up and have to cut another hole in my belt cos my pants beginning to fall down. Still quite a fat fuck overall but noticeably a lot less corpulent than I used to be. Regular doses of pharmaceutical grade central nervous stimulants are certainly not the healthiest way to lose weight but they're definitely extremely effective. Speeds up your metabolism, acts as an appetite suppressant and keeps your brain sharp. A little too sharp sometimes, liable to cut yourself up with all that hyperactive mental trembling. A small price to pay I reckon, guess I'm getting a bit sick of having a “great personality” People self-report that they value all kinds of crazy feel-good disney qualities in a partner: intelligence, a sense of humour, compassion and kindness yadda yadda yadda but scientific studies have shown the reality is much simpler and also far more shallow.

The rules might suck, but if you want to win the prize then playing the game seems like the only option available.