Today I did some recording for Esio Trot. She went clothes shopping with Sarah and met me in the studio later and we took the train back to Brighton together. She wrote a morbid poem and showed me. I wrote the poem about the summer's cat (p. 1858) as a reply, then I wrote another poem ('sweetheart, oh my sweet heart...etc.' p1859) which I later turned into a song that I recorded and gave to her.
When we got home we were not talking. She went straight upstairs and I stayed in the living room to write a bit. I spoke to Ed, told him I was feeling ABJECT.
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