Dear Diary,
I could've gone away, but I chose instead to stay, I'm feeling the last residual traces of "the siege" day before payday. Sobriety. No cigarettes. Nothing. Hard-core.
Stress levels are low, at least with myself, if not some of those about me as I sit, and 'text' this diary entry (or "blog post" as they're now known, lol) from my smart-phone. Everybody should have one.
Anyway, I sit here, awaiting the moment when I get to edit down these rock 'n roll band snippets. It will no doubt take an age, or at least, what seems like it. Stress. No fags. You'd think t'was they who are having to go without.
Things here are ... calmer now.
An old friend who's recently returned from across 'the pond' and I are going for a short road trip tomorrow. The weather be clement, and things shall undoubtably be ... more On the Flex.
I found some raspberry canes today, and shall make a hedge out of them where the fence at the far end of my English country garden has collapsed. For now though, as the firey golden orb kisses the green hilltops, I await the use of the editing software so I can listen to the tracks we put down. Awesome.
Stay On the Flex.
Maximus.
