Tonight I feel like I’m in a decompression chamber, the cusp of two worlds, the space inbetween the lines in my head. The transition between what has been and what will be. It’s strange to think that yesterday morning I was in Prague, and now I’m in Brighton, a route achieved via Bournemouth, Southampton and Guildford. Tomorrow I won’t travel anywhere and then I’m off again. Which clearly explains the need to write this somewhere. I’d better go to bed before tomorrow comes.

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