
A Naturalbeing Presents The:

Goodbye Bull

...I'll be back in a ton suns!

Where, oh where, oh where, would these thoughts be, if you didn't buy this notebook for me,

Lola G?! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, they'd still be stuck inside of me! Thankfully not, for

they can be heard now on this paper, they are free. And as you gave it away on Sunrise sun, I

now return this book to thee. To Lola Gatsby:

Diary Deary 1. Everybody has created and collaborated with the events in this book; I have merely collected, compiled and noted the happenings. This book is editable; it mimics life: A

constant work-in-progress. Please, read through thoroughly and insert your own, directed

messages and thoughts next to a related situation within this book.

I am a messenger, not a prophet. IAMU. I am The Last of The Mohicans. I am

anything and everything; everything and nothing. I am life and I am also death. I am The

One. I am internal peace, not external war. I am a character in a big play, I wear a name (You

may call me Ken Osis.) and I am loving my roll. I am e-volution not revolution. I am a

human-e being. I am the drastic irony that this World has produced. I am the experience that

you have created. I am a natural being.

I am not saying that I am going to change the World, but I guarantee that I will spark

the brains that will change the World. We've got to make a change. It's time for us as a

people to start making some changes. Let's change the way that we eat. Let's change the way

that we live. Let's change the way that we treat each other. You see the current way is not

working, so it's on us to do what we have got to do to survive; we cannot change the World

unless we change ourselves; the problems that exist in the World cannot be solved by the

level of thinking that created them.

Yet, every so often, there must be one born, who from birth is the polar opposite to

the society-system, one produced by natural Nature. No speaking. No will. No lust. No

desire. Nothing. The first human is reborn. Now, does he leave his strange new habitat,

rejecting all, or does he take advantage of the ills on offer in order to connect with others, and then so eradicate these ills? This is the natural human-e's dilemma; to flee to the woods or to live the city life and expose the political elite. It is not the consciousness of men that

determines their existence, but their social existence that determines their consciousness.

Only humans think of the World as 'wild', whereas the human-e sees Earth as being

bountiful; surrounded by the blessings of the great mystery.

Nothing that I write or say in this book is to be interpreted as being serious. In the

past, I realise that I have said things which may have been construed as being a serious

representation of myself. I assure you, I have never truly meant anything. I am merely

speculating. Having a laugh. Assuming. Life is a gift in which we're supposed to have fun!

Now, however, as I understand this and accept the experience of mind, I find myself now

saying things to be interpreted as 'unseriously' serious. Every scribe in this book is a

question. Some contrast each other. That is not a problem. Questions from either side of the

spectrum are unable to be definitively answered. Philosophy answers. Now is the time for

philosophy to answer. This is Nomad Philosophy.

So, this story all began 2 silics (Time is not definitive, people. Do not feel constrained

by it. In this story World, time relates to the Sun and it's journey around our home planet. I

shall describe the stages to you that shall be mentioned in this publication. We measure our

lives off how many Suns we have seen light up the sky. To enable us to better communicate

this, we break this down into sections that can be quantified. There are 360 Suns in a sircul,

with a sircul being comprised of 12 riyzs, linking into the Sun's journey around the stars and

planets. There are, on average, 4 silics in a riyz, with 7 suns per silic. On a microcosmic

level, there are 24 stundas per sun cycle, each stunda being comprised of 60 smalieys, with a

smaliey being 60 cufayers. 'Thissun' is the present Sun that is gracing our sky. Remember,

reader, that time is an illusion and it can be whatever you want it to be. Do not let it dictate your life. Time is not a rune; it is not set in stone.) ago, as I walked away from a blue people-carrier and the charming girl stood by it's side. This girl was Lola, my ex-girlfriend. She'd

dropped me in Hucurl (Hucurl is the nearest city to Dishwei, the place that I call 'home'.

Dishwei is located in the North West of Verland (Verland is located on the Central continent

of Mydow and is the country that has been at the forefront of World-expansion over the past

500 sirculs - understand the present in the context of history: Whoever controls the past

controls the future, whoever controls the present controls the past. It is also a place that is covertly, yet intricately, obsessed with religion; though I have a slightly different

interpretation of this, as I believe that we've all been living a misspelled lie, as it's clear that our leaders are obsessed with meeting and reaching the 'profits'. The other misspelled lie is

that people are perpetually waiting for the Son to rise!).) along with Mikey C, Dave, Ben and

Hugh; we were having a final swansong together before I departed for Smiyulland

(Smiyulland is located on the Eastern continent of Oibye, found in the South East region, and

the place where I'd be spending my foreseeable future.).

Needless to say, things got messy during the course of this evening. Before the

necking of pints began, though, I had one final task to carry out, a task that would mark the

end of me working for another person or company ever again. In order to save-up the money

required to visit Smiyulland, I worked in a sandwich shop, with my last shift being 27

stundas! This sandwich shop has a loyalty-card system, in which free sandwiches can be

obtained in relation to the amount of money that you spend. Instead of using this to my own,

personal advantage, as I was able to take the points off customers who didn't want them, I

managed to fill-up 7 cards' worth of free food, each with 5 sandwiches on them. So, before

we went clubbing, the 4 of us wandered the streets of Hucurl and distributed these cards to

those who we found in need of them.

After this task, we headed to the club. On the dance-floor of the club that we were in,

called 'Hive', I met 2, middle-aged women who were clearly out on the prowl for some

young meat. This was when the 'Eye of Providence' first looked down on me, as It did

several times over the coming silics. As a definition term for this journal, 'Providence' is the unavoidable order of things. _''How things should happen when Nature plans it all out. We_

_believe that we can directly influence our fate, when in fact, if a strong belief is held, the path_ _shall be created for us. Let go of control and start to believe in something and it shall_

_manifest. Anything is possible. Dream big. Seldom in life does one encounter a shining bright_ _spark in this very dim World. Ignite, shine bright, light the star that you are.''_

__

Thankfully, they chose Ben and Hugh as their prey as they were the purest and most

innocent-looking. One of these beasties was, however, a travel planner from Moonie (Moonie

is the capital city of Verland, and found in the South of the country.). I informed her of my

impending trip and she provided me with a telephone number of an acquaintance she had in

Mestepme (Mestepme is the capital city of Browkland, which is across the sea from my home

country and well-known for its relaxed drug laws.)! This was to be the destination for my

connecting flight to Ouchwil, which is the capital of Smiyulland.

We left the club in the early hours, with me, Mike and Dave heading to the airport,

leaving Ben and Hugh in Hucurl to be devoured by the cougars.

I got to the airport and had a quick, final sunter (A sunter is a conically-rolled paper

parchment filled with the exotic herbs of this land, which are known as 'Taboosh'.) with

Mike, something we had shared many times before, who was himself heading on an exotic,

sun-laden holiday, albeit only for a silic.

I then headed up to the departure-lounge to meet Giles Washington, my nomadic

companion for this trip, and his parents, though I was in no fit state to be around his family; stood before them was what must have looked like an 'Alcoholic-Anonymous' reject! We

then had to check-in quickly, before saying an emotional goodbye; in which Giles's mother

handed him a postcard which read: ''Yestersun I was clever so I wanted to change the World,

now I am wise so I am changing myself.''.

We just managed to catch our flight to Mestepme. An airplane was not where I

wanted to be sitting right now, I needed fresh air and lots and lots of water; I drifted in and out of consciousness during this flight.

Upon landing, I proudly raced to the first toilet in the airport and proceeded to be sick

4 times, which did assist me in regaining soberness. I was now level-headed and able to look

forward to my impending departure. Before this, however, we had 4 stundas to burn, literally.

After being unable to contact the number provided to me by the drunken reveller last

night, we went into Mestepme city centre, famous for its high grade herbs, and had a large,

pure sunter each. This smoke had a positive effect on me and removed any worries that I may

have had about leaving the relative comfort of Dishwei and heading to the other side of the

World. It put Giles in a bad way, however, as he fretted about the journey ahead of us, even

having to pass half of his unsmoked sunter to some fellow travellers who were sat next to us.

After 2 stundas and a final goodbye to Mydow, we returned to the airport; the next event was

the flight from 'Me to Ouchwil.

On the flight, provided to us by Lifta (Lifta is the largest populated country in this

World, with the only relevant fact that I have to hand being that the word which they use in

their language for 'Fate' is also interpreted as the length of one's life.) Airlines, there was plenty of pampering from attractive airhostesses. This pampering relaxed me to the extent

that I was able to put pen to paper and write this little piece: ''The moment has arrived. The

spirit has got lost within its own creation, I must now get lost within my own limitless mind

to find it once more. I've been waiting on the platform, and now it's time to step on to this

moving train, into, and exposure of, the belly of the beast. Providence knows what awaits.

Choice? Or is it fate? The equilibration of the system begins.''.

Diary Deary 2. We landed in Ouchwil early in the morning, yet the city and its inhabitants

were awake and busy shuttling around. _''Each sun, we routinely awake in the morning. Yet in_ _the work-hard West, is the morning ritual conversely conversing a mourning at a wake for_

_the dead?''_ We then got a taxi from the airport into the centre, being dropped off at Hostel Number 1, before then heading out in to the unknown of Ouchwil.

After several, tiny backstreets and what appeared to be sweatshops selling

unfathomable items, such as corrugated metal in all shapes and sizes and broom handles, our first find of any note was an anti-government protest, as there has just been a power-change

in this country, with the army taking over, leaving a lot of the democratic voters appalled and also the youth disillusioned. _''I say that I am e-volution and not revolution because the root_ _word in 'revolution' is 'revolve'. If something revolves, that means that it will go in a circle._

_We do not want this. We want e-volution. We want to move forward on to a new tangent as a_

_race, never to return to the old ways. The idea of 'government' is something that was_

_introduced to society by the ancient philosophers. Nowasuns, there is a distinct lack of_

_philosophy associated with governmental-actions, with personal gain being put above all_

_else. Government was built on the term 'Utilitarianism', which means that something's value_ _may be measured by its usefulness and that subsequent action should be directed towards_

_achieving the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people.''_

__

A local resident made us reconsider our safety, saying that there was an excess of

army-officers present at this rally. _''It's a police state, this is crazy. So I'mma tell you what_ _I'm gonna do, right. I'm gonna amass trillions worth of money at 0% tax, and then keep it_

_between me and my buddies. And when you need help with your mortgage or debt, I won't be_

_there for you. Now, if you don't like that, and you want to protest, well I'm just gonna call in_ _the obedient baton brigade to protect me. Disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The_ _obedient must be slaves.''_ He instead ushered us down to the river-front and coaxed us into a boat trip on the river which runs around the city.

Giles was able to purchase his first beer of our journey 5 smalieys down the line,

being haggled by an opportunistic lady who was sat in a tiny wooden boat, waiting for

passers-by. Normally when I go to a new city, I get my bearings quickly. This stunda-long

tour, though, showed me that this was not going to be the case here.

We were dropped off at a skully (A skully is the place of worship in these lands, with

the ceremonies being carried out by 'Urans'. 'Skully' and 'Que' are interchangeable with each

other.) and began to explore its grounds. Que Vid it was named. It had a large, marble-esque,

pyramidal construction as it's centrepiece, which I later learned was the most photographed

site in the city.

Ouchwil is extremely diverse, as I quickly realised, with there being lots of eclectic

sights to take in on this first sun. In the evening, we went to the popular and infamous tourist stretch called 'Moo Nige Road', and met a Doottish (Dootland is the country directly North

of, and adjoined to, Verland.) man whose dad lives here in Ouchwil. He was giving us

information on what to expect during our stay here and offering a few language tips to help

us get by; probably some of this information was false, especially when he claimed that 'Bang

Bang' was the common phrase for 'Toilet'! After this, we then got a traditional taxi (A

traditional taxi has 3 wheels, a loud engine and colourful, flashing lights and no doors) to

take us to one of Ouchwil's infamous brothels, just to say that we'd been to one, of course.

We were greeted by an old man who was wearing a smart suit, informing us that the girls to

the left of us were 'New' and cost ~80, with the girls on the right being sloppy-seconds

costing ~60 (~ is the monetary symbol used in Smiyulland and is known as the 'Share'. A

share is made-up of 100 freeyz.). This man would not leave us alone for the next half a

stunda, and I believed him to be in collusion with our taxi driver who was waiting outside,

but he was never going to get a share out of me, because I show R.E.S.P.E.C.T.. We left empty handed, but with ball-sacs fully loaded.

Returning to Hostel Number 1, our heads hit the pillow after an intriguing first

sun.

Diary Deary 3. The next sun we had to arise early in order to catch a flight to the island of

Ma Tammy, as we had arranged to meet up with some friends from Hucurl, who were out

here in Smiyulland at the same time as us, for one of the island's much heralded 'Holcow'

parties.

Departing from a different airport than the one that we arrived at yestersun, as

this was an internal flight, we there met an interesting Dowpathian (Dowpathia is a country

whose residents have the same tongue as those in Verland, as Verland colonised it in the past,

yet it is located on the opposite side of the globe and not too far from Smiyulland.) man who

would become our first nomad friend on this trip, one who spoke with the wisdom and guile

that we'd come to this part of the World to hear. We journeyed with this fine fellow, who

may have overdone his talking on his beloved Ju-Jitsu a little too much, until we reached the

island.

Stepping off the ferry, which was part of the connecting service after we'd landed on

the Southern mainland, I was now stood on what I would learn to be the most intense, mad,

party-orientated island imaginable. Me and Giles had to quickly rush to Hostel Number 2,

speedily being checked into our 12-person dorm by the lovely receptionist, Jade. We seemed

out of place in this dorm, with the people here seeming to be taking this party business a little too seriously, as they were covering themselves in paint, wearing luminous vests and being

perfect examples of the 'Hippie Folks' that you picture in your mind whenever anyone

mentions a holisun on a tropical island; the Verlish guy who was half-drunk and jamming

with a guitar being the prime example. One person even claimed that I would have an inferior

night to them because of the clothes that I was wearing!

Me and Giles remained in our 'uncool' attire and found the nearest restaurant. I

ordered a Cotojuice curry, a dish which I'd eaten in Verland and perhaps even set me on my

way to coming here to Smiyulland, as I'd liked the taste of it so much. Meals, I quickly

learned, never cost more than ~2 here in Smiyulland. Eating this dish in its country of origin

was a paradise for the pallet of my tingly tongue and set me up well for the night ahead.

Thunderstorms were overhead as we headed down to the beach to meet Oli and his

mates, a defining moment in my eyes which confirmed the reality of the trip. There we were,

finally, on the beach, a large jug of alcohol each, 8 people from Dishwei - a place where

people take for granted the things that they see on a daily basis, where as I believe that

everything is life is a continuous marvel.

Sober events soon became drunken antics after this and things escalated quickly, with

me, Giles and Oli leaving the others as we headed up to Zimma (Zimmas are well known to

those people who wish to try hallucinogenic drugs.) Mountain, stopping off at the Techno-

Tent on the way, until the energetic Giles had tired himself out! Zimma Mountain was _the_

place! Everyone up there was in a trance-like state and we didn't even need to buy an

infamous 'Zimma-Shake', with everyone happy to hand theirs out to us and let us have a sip through their straw. Me and Oli had a sunter up there, staring out at the unbeatable view. I

quipped that he'd be unable to smoke ever again when back in Verland, as this was the

pinnacle place to smoke. We were staring down at 30,000 people raving their lives and livers

away on a beach, having an unforgettable time, yet ironically one that they're unlikely to

remember. ''Too many people live for the messedupness of a party'' said Oli, who had to

leave soon, having a taxi-boat to catch after midnight, as his group were leaving Smiyulland

in 4 stundas' time and heading on to Tonareech (Tonareech is a small country South of here

and is annexed from Illoivis (Illovis is the country which borders the South of Smiyulland.),

yet used to, through colonialism, belong to Verland.). We somehow managed to make our

way through the party revellers and ended up at the other end of the beach. We said our

farewells and cherished this beautiful memory, one that we'd likely discuss over and over

again back in Verland.

As Oliver and the others sped across the ocean, me and Giles decided to lie on the

beach and stare at the pale moon above us. We then met some friendly folks from Leash

(Leash is a city 40 smalieys to the East of Dishwei.), who were also staying at Hostel Number

2. We were delighted to find fellow, like-minded nomads amongst the crowd of drunken

zombies. _''Alcohol is legal but the effects aren't. Taboosh is not legal but the effects are.''_

I managed to literally dance the night away for 5 stundas. We boogeyed until just

before the sunrise; we would have stayed for the full sunrise but Giles needed sleep and the

Sun itself was creeping-up ever so slowly behind the clouds. Taxis here on the island only set

off when they're full, meaning that we had a 15 smaliey wait before it was fully loaded, yet

the bonus was that we were crammed in with lots of other amusing drunkards; we had some

Mooniers in our truck which produced plenty of North-South rivalry banter. Sleep.

Diary Deary 4. We awoke roughly (Roughly as in the estimated time and also roughly in a

hangover sense.) in the late-afternoon, and with no plans for the sun. We wanted to go and

get our first flavour of a tropical beach, so we simply followed the path which was opposite

the entrance to the hostel. This led us to a small, private beach which was occupied mainly by

Mydowean families, who were here catching the last rays of Sun before school-term starts

again in the Western World. Not wishing to remain here for too long, as we felt out of place,

we simply submerged our bodies in the warm water before getting out again. One thing that

did catch my eye, though, was the children who were constructing a large sandcastle, as this

reminded me of something that I'd read in a magazine that the Dowpathian man had handed

to me on our journey yestersun; it was something along these lines: ''A group are children

are playing in a sand pit. All of a sudden, a few children decide 'These toys are mine' and

they tell the other kids that they must earn little pieces of paper in order to gain access to

these toys. Any adult observing this would intervene instantly and tell the children to share.

What's the difference?!''. Not wishing to forget this little analogy once again, I took out my

notebook from my bag and scribbled it down.

With no evening intentions, we were influenced by an advertisement that we saw as

we walked back towards the hostel: ''Live, local fighters, every night. Come see some

traditional Hui-Smiyul boxing (Hui-Smiyul is the fighting style that is used by the Smiyul

people.). ~10 per person with a free beer on entry.''. We couldn't say no to that, noticing,

too, that it was only a short distance down the road from Number 2.

So, there we went. Once inside, we met an Awedali (Awedal is a large country to the

West of Verland, separated by the vast Liocross Ocean.) man who was here holisuning in

these parts, taking a break from his teaching job in the country of nearby South Quelobe,

where he claims that schools there are a lot better than those in the West, delivering this

damning assessment: ''Schools have saturated, with less care being shown to the individual

due to ever expanding class sizes. The 12-sirculs-a-slave curriculum has saturated, with

teachers growing ever more bored and frustrated at the lack of opportunity for their own

creative expression and also the child's inner creativity. Why are psychology and philosophy

not used to their advantage? School stands for special, unfortunately, it's become greyly

mundane.''.

The first fight that we witnessed was between 2 people who should have been in

school: 2 prepubescent children! No betting took place on this one, with no sane human-e

wanting to bet on a child getting KO'd! Thankfully this didn't happen and they left the ring

unharmed, leaving it empty for the professional adult fighters to continue the entertainment. 5

more fights produced 5 knock-outs, although the locals, with their inside knowledge, worded

their pre-match commentary well, each time tricking the majority of the audience to bet

against the eventual winner! I saw one fighter have his leg broken and also another guy get

knocked clean out with a kidney-punch, which I didn't know could be done!

This night was supposed to be a quiet one, yet it didn't turn out that way. We got

drunk again, this time not too far away from our bed, choosing to sit with the group which

had congregated outside of our hostel. _''Alcohol slurs down your throat, that's why it's so_ _hard to set limits, one swig and it's gone. Chew on peyote, releasing its disgusting taste, and_ _you'll sure know your limit and when to stop!''_ It was all good chat until things turned politically sour when Giles started to give a righteous argument to a man from Faumpor

(Faumpor is the most infamous and sun-laden place in Awedal.). It wasn't nice to hear, but at

the same time, this ignorant guy kept on saying that he didn't care about what was happening

to others in this World and that the inequality of money did not bother him. The argument

became even more intense after Giles had returned from a 'munch-run' to the shop. _''It's_

_funny how a conversation interrupted midway can change the discourse and outcome of the_

_continued conversation. This half-time break allows each participant to perfect their reply_ _and blow their opponent out of the water._ '' The next sun I learned that the Faumi man had lost his beloved credit-card overnight; I classed this as his comeuppance for telling the

Universe that he didn't care about others and that his own money was all that was important.

The funniest moment tonight was when a guy announced that he'd arrived on the

island thissun, hoping to attend the once-a-riyz 'Holcow' party. Unlucky mate! I doubt

whether any other soul even arrived on the island thissun, besides him!

Diary Deary 5. Quote of the Silic: ''If the World were merely seductive, that would be easy.

If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn

between a desire to improve the World and a desire to enjoy the World.''.

Everyone on the island seems to hire a scooter to get around, something that I would

enjoy. Giles, however, had some large-scale reservations about this; a traumatic event in his

past has left him supposedly scarred, mentally not physically. He said, therefore, that he

would pay to hire a car. Great! I invited along 2 girls from Pushwei (Pushwei is a 15 smaliey

drive Northwards from Dishwei.) who were sleeping in the beds opposite to us in the dorm.

The ~20 car-hire price seemed too good to be true, although they did require a passport for

deposit.

We drove around this sun-laden island finding idyllic beaches, each uniquely different

from the last. This was the visual realisation of the images that I'd had in my mind before

coming out here to Smiyulland. The fact that we've arrived during off-season has been a

blessing in disguise; we had several stretches of beach to ourselves.

Hold up. Comical disaster on its way. After all had gone swimmingly well so far, with

snorkelling and rock climbing and delicious food all being resounding successes, Giles then

puts a twist on proceedings as he reversed in to a concrete pole, damaging the car and causing

the front-left bumper-shield to dislodge. I assume that the girls in the back were at this point scared at his erratic driving and fearful of the drive back to the car-rental depot. I couldn't believe he'd done it; I was directing him, shouting as he got closer and closer, yet his tired

mind was not for listening and he just wanted to reverse as quickly as possible. I attempted to use the blue-tac which had been covering my camera lens on my electronic tablet (Did you

know that camera applications on electronic devices, which are in-fact uninstallable, are

recording at all times, without your permission?), but this was of course to no avail.

Returning to the hostel just after sunset, our bodies were drained from the sun's

activities and so now began a 2-sun climate adjustment process, in which lots of food and

water passed through our body all too quickly. These past 5 suns have been extremely

intense; I literally hadn't stopped since I saw Lola, the brown-eyed girl next to the blue-

coloured car, back in Hucurl.

Diary Deary 6. The car fiasco was not over yet, not by a long stretch. Giles had left the

headlights on overnight, after he'd made a semi-conscious drive down to the shops for some

food during the early stundas of the morning. Waking up in the midsun heat, with the car due

for return in a stundas' time, we realised what had happened. This set in motion a back and

forth, energy draining, chain of events. We needed a lift into town to go to the depot, where

we then had to wait for the man to finish serving other clients, before heading back to the

hostel in his jeep and attempting to jump start the car, which was evidently not going to

happen as the battery was visually withered as we lifted up the bonnet. Still, this did not deter Giles from several attempts at a jump start, with many near misses. Then, standing in the

scorching Sun, we had to wait for a mechanic to arrive with a new battery, which was only

going to hike up the bill that was going to be handed to Giles at the end of all this. I was taking no responsibility. None of this would have happened on a scooter!

Eventually, all was fixed and we were back in town at the depot, with Giles coughing

up the demanded ~120 in order for his passport to be returned to him. This situation was

finally over and we were on our way. A relaxing place on this intense island was needed, if

such a place existed. We found it in the confines of the picturesque 'Mestepme Bar'. By

name, by Nature, this was a taboosh selling, mountain-top chill-spot that provided us with the

best place to view a glorious sunset. ''I shall not stop until I am fast asleep on the comfy

ocean bed.'' I thought as I stared out into this endless, turquoise utopia. ''Stop what?''

enquired Giles. ''Well'', I went on, acting as though I'd meant to say it out-loud ''I saw a

post on ClockOn (ClockOn is the popular social media site used throughout the World.) that

said that 'If we cannot live as brothers, then we shall all die as fools', and this got me

thinking about how I can change the current predicament; we have lost our innate goodness

to the point where it looks like we didn't have any to begin with. The way I see it is that I

have got nothing to lose but my handcuffs. I've always promoted the idea that applying

philosophy to society turns it into politics and education; you try acting on your words and

you're instantly political. But now, now I believe that I have to act otherwise we shall all be dead soon. To depart from current 'Mother Culture' is seen to be resigning from the human

race itself. Apparently, there is no 'Something else'. And that's what I want to do, offer

people 'Something else'. What do you want me to say to my kids? 'Hello son. Welcome to

the World. This is all a lie. But you know what, you've got to deal with it yourself because I

couldn't be bothered trying to change it for you!'. No, I will not be saying those words. I

will try. If I don't change what's been given what can I say to my children?''. ''Wow'' said

Giles, ''I feel the same way too, brother, I hope that we can find ourselves here in Smiyulland and then return to Verland feeling empowered.''.

I believe that this moment then ruined my personality for the next 2 suns; I was

somewhat downhearted because I believed that this place was the peak of my travels and that

I'd seen it so early in to this trip! Imagine paradise in your mind's eye and this was it, yet

imagine all the other predicaments occurring in the World at the same time. Not natural

injustices, I can deal with and accept those, but man-made ones. They're the ones I want to

battle. ' _'Compassion hurts. When you feel everything, you also feel responsible for_

_everything. You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must be_

_strong enough to love the World, yet empty enough not to be bothered by its worst horrors. I_ _am a terribly real thing in a terribly false World. That, I believe, is why I am in so much_ _pain.''_

Reggae music was played through the speakers here until the Sun went down, during

which time I sat amongst my own thoughts, with a sunter always in hand. When the Sun did

indeed go down, me and Giles settled on returning to Hostel Number 2, as we were still not

feeling 100%, with our bodies catching-up with recent events. We went to sleep soon after

getting some food from the market stall that we passed on the way back.

Diary Deary 7. I feel that 'Mestepme Bar' is all that needs to be typed into thissun's entry.

We had the beach to ourselves this morning, so Giles sunbathed listening to some

music through my speaker, while I waded out into the sea, which was so shallow that I was

able to head out for a good 15 smalieys before the water reached my neck. ' _'Why is the sea_

_king of a hundred streams? Because it lies below them.''_

From midsun until sunset, we were there, at 'Mestepme Bar', going through various

fruit juices, supping them at a fast rate. We'd realised by this point that the majority of people spend at most 4 suns on this island, and tend to leave 2 suns after the 'Holcow' party; we'd

booked for 5 and were here for 4 suns after it! Reading (Book 1.) and writing began thissun

though, with these words being what came to mind as I stared out into the sea and beyond:

''Have you ever seen a sight like this? Ash on paper. A seat with a view. Nothing is

explained, everything becomes clear. The pinnacle of withdrawal, everything's pellucid.

Fighting against reality. Who says? Revelations. Ironing out the creases which impinge upon

the Western ego-capitalist World. A cloudy sunset says it all. Things can only be mentioned

so many times. When will all this stop and nothingness reign? Not the care for respecting

others, but the care of being true to yourself. The judgement of others, viewed from ego

perspective, is a heavy-duty padlock with a stranglehold around the neck of spirit freedom.

The grappling fear of being fully open and free; let go! I can't get anywhere better than

everywhere. Happiness is in the mind. Happiness is the mind. Take in out.''.

After another delightful sunset, slightly blocked by the keen people at the front who

wanted to take pictures, we returned to Hostel Number 2 and spent the evening with the guys

that we'd met from Leash. There was also another member of our group that evening, well 2

to be mentioned in fact. First, the dog which seemed to be an unofficial resident at Number 2,

seemingly smarter than some of the official guests! This dog first impressed us by

accompanying us on the 10 smaliey walk down to the beach and then onto the 'Pool Bar'

where, after waking up the owner, we stayed for a stunda. During this stunda, I seemed to

offend this man when I potted the black ball to beat him on the last shot; he believed that I'd shot backwards, with the rules being forward shots only.

_''Backwards? Backwards? No, I'm just taking a long run-up for the biggest jump that_

_humanity has ever seen.''_ We joked about this before I took the shot; I didn't think that he was being serious as the angle was clearly in favour of the ball going forward; he wanted me

to try an outrageous 'up-and-down-the-table' shot. I bent down and comfortably potted the

formality of an easy black.

We then headed back to the hostel before I had the opportunity to upset any more

locals, taking a detour to the convenience store. The dog then displayed some more conscious

actions as he accompanied us there too, knowing that if he did so, he'd be guaranteed to

receive some of the food that we purchased. I believe this to be the way in which he acquired

all his food and he was in fact a very smart, stray, street dog.

Back at the hostel, me and Giles packed away our clothes before going to sleep, ready

to depart the next sun.

Diary Deary 8. Ma Howgo (Ma Howgo is the island which is adjacent to Ma Tammy.) airport with a flight to Snappy (Snappy is a Southern, seaside city located within (Smiyulland.) was

on thissun's agenda.

After Giles had ditched his soiled underpants in the bathroom, he then purchased a

large book which detailed the history of Smiyulland and other surrounding countries. I posted

the first postcard to my old work-place thissun, intending to make all other staff jealous of

my location and also inspire them to work hard, save up, and come here themselves.

After some free popcorn in the departure lounge, we boarded what was the quickest

flight that I've ever been on; up and down in 30 smalieys!

With Snappy airport being just out of town, we hopped on to a bus which then took us

into the city, thankfully dropping us at the door to our hostel, Hostel Number 3. We were

given a very spacious room at a very reasonable price of ~4.20, the only downside being that

it was on the top-floor of this 5-storey building. Quickly connecting to the Internet and

looking on Where2Go (Where2Go is a travel-comparison website.) at the best activities to do

in the area, I made a plan for the remaining stundas of the sun.

Snappy is my type of city: Small, compact and quirky. This meant that I felt safe and

confident of my location at all times because the wide roads allowed for easy navigation.

With Where2Go recommending 3 skullies to visit in town, we got the most popular and

furthest away out of the way first. Saying that we got it 'out of the way' is a huge disservice; it was a pleasure to attend and to witness this place.

We took a taxi to 'Rarr Hole Skully', a place where several urans and monkeys reside

together on the same grounds. The centrepiece of this site was the 1000-step climb to the

large golden-coloured Maytla (The Maytla is the deity here in Smiyulland, with its followers

being referred to as Maytlists. Here is a brief summary: ''Human Nature is evil; survive at all costs is what the Nature urge says. Let us therefore evolve! We need to have an artificial

conscious exertion. Only this can save us from emotionally rampaged decisions. If we learn

to build up an artificial construction of self we must then let it manifest into second-nature.

This is the reason for Maytlist urans shaving their hair, i.e. so that they maintain this artificial state.''.) statue on top of this mini-mountain whichcould be seen from far away in all

directions. This walk definitely sweated out any remaining illness that I had within my body!

It turns out that health and safety authorities do exist here is Smiyulland, as a section

of the steps had to be closed off and rebuilt as they were considered too steep, so said the sign anyway.

We were treated to a breath-taking view at the top; we were immersed in the clouds to

begin with yet you could just sense it. The passing thunderstorm added to the respect that I

had for anyone who partook in the building of such a fascinating sculpture in such a jaw-

dropping location.

Giles recorded some footage for the documentary that he will compile at the end of

this trip; due to be entitled 'Nomad Philosophy' and include footage such as this, and also

conversations with other nomads that we meet along the way.

We then started to make the gruelling descent; the rain had made the stairs slippy so

we had to be extra careful. _''Some people feel the rain; others just get wet.''_

Back down at ground-level, we entered into the cave where supposedly the Maytla

had once visited. In here, we donated pocket-money to a new bell which was being built on

the skully grounds, with the premise of having our Dishweian names inscribed into the bell.

This evening, after a brief look at the 2 other skullies in the city, 2 venues were

visited: 'Smile Bar' and 'Boogey Bar'. Smile Bar was first. We had walked around town until

we found a reggae bar, as this is taken as the unofficial sign for a taboosh vendor. Every local that we spoke to pointed us in the direction of Smile Bar. We were greeted by a man who

proclaimed his name to be 'Mr Happy', although within 5 smalieys, matters muddied, as he

could also be referred to as 'Mr Tab', 'Mr Babylon' or 'Mr Mango'. Behind the bar was a

more reserved gentleman whom I spoke with on an efficient level, quickly getting to the

point and purchasing 2 blocks of compressed fiya (Fiya is a slightly different type of

taboosh.). Me and Giles then sat down to 'chat life' with a travelling Unonch (Unon is a

country located South East of Verland and only a 1 stunda ferry-journey away.) couple. Live

music quickly followed, as a local artist took to the stage and managed to reach every level of bliss possible with his music. This euphoric bar was a place of unparalleled happiness.

The live music gave Giles and myself another video-based idea: Filming live music

around the World and then posting it on a dedicated UzVid (UzVid is an Internet website

which hosts millions upon millions of videos and has really contributed to the global

consciousness expansion due to the variety of topics that can be found on there.) channel,

potentially called 'Live Music Hunt'. This particularly resonated with me as I've had the

long-term view that musicians, especially urban rappers, are the modern equivalent of

philosophical writers. With the youth no longer reading too much, this is how they get their

knowledge, and music is also the medium to which people have turned to express their

political views.

Boogey Bar was next: A back street bar behind the hostel which we somehow

stumbled upon and quickly learned that it was a brothel for local men. However, our

treatment could not have been better. Never in my life have I seen beautiful women rack up

free games of pool one after the other and be so keen to have a match against you. 'The

Mother' of the waitresses was a lovely lady named Rukong and she was clearly excited at

having some foreign friends to entertain. We discovered that she, too, supported Hucurl

United and we proceeded to watch the live match there that evening on TV. At half-time, she

made me a lovely Smiyul salad, containing fish balls, which turned out to be deceptively

spicy. Giles ate some chicken wings, sticking to his staple Verlish diet. With the match

finishing 3-2 in favour of Hucurl, we high-fived Rukong and returned to our hostel to get

some sleep.

Diary Deary 9. Quote of the Silic: ''No matter what, I refuse to believe that this is all there is.

I have a knowing of more. A 4th dimension. A oneness. A cataclysmic vibrational, conscious

shift into the next stage of evolution. You know that evolution didn't stop with opposable

thumbs, right? This spirit within this experience vessel needs to expand beyond into the

realms currently unknown.''.

The success of both Smile Bar and Boogey Bar made our plans for thissun quite easy

to determine. Waking up to witness a street parade, we then showered and got ready slowly,

before going for another walk around Snappy. Unfortunately, not a lot goes on here during

the suntime, with the nearby town of Eu Will being the popular, resort-based place-to-be. Our

decision to go here ourselves was made all the easier this evening, as Mr Happy invited us to

accompany him and the other bar members to a beach reggae festival the following silicend,

with the famous Smiyul artist 'WhataGwarn' headlining. We gratefully snapped (No pun!) up

this ticket offer, with the decision now being 'What to do in the silic in-between'. What

strikes me about Mr Happy is that he has a great understanding of the disparity of wealth in

his country, yet he chooses to live life with a smile on his face and to ensure that his fellow human-e beings are enjoying themselves when in his company. I decided to bring this up

with him and, without hesitation, he quips this right back at me: ''No living being is exempt

from rendering service to other beings; in each other we have a constant companion and an

eternal religion.''.

Since landing in Ouchwil, I've been contacting various resorts on some of the smaller

islands, as I'd like to experience what it would be like to be 'cut-off' and remote for a few

suns and be completely removed from the hustle and bustle of sun-to-sun life. With it being

off-season at the moment, several of these resorts failed to respond, yet I was able to establish contact with an Awedali man who owns some beach-side bungalows on the nearby island of

Ma Lankida, known for producing and exporting large quantities of rubber. It was sorted;

we'd arrive tomorrow courtesy of an arranged taxi and stay there for 3 or 4 suns, depending

on our impressions upon arrival.

Diary Deary 10. During our stay here in Snappy, Giles has mainly eaten at Westernised

restaurants; this was his choice. My staple food, however, had become some street-corner

'Fried Smiyul' (Fried Smiyul consists of olbris, which themselves are the Eastern version of

what is known in the West as 'spaghetti', with nuts, various vegetables and egg.). This leads

nicely on to our trip to Ma Lankida, as upon arrival, after a lovely long-tail boat ride and a

rock-festival DVD experience in the taxi, we were offered food: Chicken, carrot and broccoli

with rice; something that I assumed was the silicly leftovers. Saying this, it was the tastiest meal that I've eaten to date! However, this led the comfy, stable Giles to order it for every

meal over the course of the next 3 suns on the island! I explained to him that it wasn't even on the menu but he wasn't bothered, that's all he ate!

We soon realised why Ma Lankida isn't often talked about between other travellers.

This island was encircled by 3 other islands and seemed to be, via the sea waves, receiving all incoming litter. However, it's clear that the locals had a sense of understanding as to why

their beloved home was such a mess; we were welcomed to the island by a large, anti-

government and anti-austerity poster which read: ''One million shares and one million

people: 100,000 people have ~900,000 between them, 900,000 people have ~100,000

between them.'' Hmmmmm, yeah, that statistic should raise a few hundred thousand

eyebrows.

The beach was a strange orange colour, yet the truly shocking discovery was that

there were several oil and rubber waste pipelines which fed into the sea, causing the sand to

be stained and turning the waves and water a sickly black colour. _''Sometimes I think the_

_surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the Universe is that none of it has tried to_ _contact us.''_ You know it's bad when you have deceased sea animals washing-up on your shore, as had happened on the sun prior to our arrival.

This didn't, however, reflect at all upon the exceptional hospitality that we received

from the hostess and her husband. The lady, I wish I knew her name, yet communication was

so minimal that we couldn't even establish this, had such warm, open eyes and I could tell

that she was eager to make us feel safe and welcome. This reminded me of the quote: ''The

best version of you makes people present their best selves to you wherever you go. To find

real peace you have to remove your armour. Risk being seen in all your glory. Expose

yourself.''.

We had a bungalow to ourselves, having the pick of them, seeing as we were the only

foreign people on the island. We chose the one that had a river flowing underneath it, with

fruit trees and the sea providing the view whenever we looked out of the window.

With

no Internet connection and heavy rain, we spent the afternoon and evening locked up in the

bungalow watching films on my tablet and smoking the fiya that we'd purchased in Snappy.

_''Sun is God. I've been sat inside most of the sun, and I've just stepped foot outside; I feel so_ _much better instantaneously. Buildings and technology confine us to the indoors, when in_

_reality we should be basking in the energetic rays of creation.''_

Diary Deary 11. What a time to come to this island! Bad weather is in abundance! We left the

room thissun only 3 times, each to make the 2 smaliey walk down to the dining area.

Fruit

was for breakfast, yet the other 2 meals were the tasty-yet-plain chicken and rice dish.

There was nothing to do thissun except to read and watch more films. With only 20

pages left to read in Book 1, I quickly finished flicking through these, which in the end can

be summarised in these words: ''The conflict (The conflict being that Awedal and it's neo-

capitalist system sees itself as being the 'Guardians of the World', so much so that countries

over in this side of the World now no longer know whether the planes flying above their

heads are going to be dropping bombs or food packages. It's become a great, hypocritical

case of 'Doublethink'. Military action is presented as a means to deliver highly-publicised

humanitarian aid.) cannot be solved in its own terms and the only way to break out of this

vicious cycle is through an act which would change the very co-ordinates of the conflict, an

act that would reverberate throughout time.''.

I then moved on to Book 2; written many sirculs ago with a focus on living a life

based around filial piety and personal and governmental morality. _''Government officials_

_act as models for the people. If people saw their sincere and honest hard work, then they_

_would do the same. When the wind moves, the grass is sure to bend. The etymology of 'Prime_

_Minister' leads us to the 2 words: 'Main Servant', which is what they must strive to be.''_

Smoking several sunters thissun, we worked our way through 'The Code' trilogy.

What films they are! _''The truth? Well, probably! I am writing this, this comes from me. Or_ _does it? Does it not come from receptors in my mind? Receptors that have been programmed_

_to decode the electrical impulses that they receive. Who put them there? Have I been lied to_ _my whole life? To believe that my 5 senses are the boundaries of this World? I see. I touch. I_ _smell. I taste. I hear. Are they my limits? Says who? Have those limits not been imposed on_ _me? I am not me. I am you. I am you who does not want me to know my infinite potential. You_ _who does not want me to feel empowered. You who does not want me to venture beyond_

_human reality and into the unknown quantum. I pity you. You fear me. You need me in order_

_to survive. You were once a parasite, but now I know of your existence. This is my World with_ _my rules. I can sense the code. It thrives in my soul. I am part of it and it part of me. I am at_ _one with it. The way my hand slides over the paper as I write, leaving a decipherable imprint._

_This is oneness in the moment. In the now. In the code.''_

We then watched 3 episodes of 'The Cramlingtons' ('The Cramlingtons' is a popular,

long-running cartoon originating out of Awedal) before then falling asleep. I say we watched,

but Giles is so well versed in 'The Cramlingtons' episodes that he needs not look at the

screen, knowing exactly what is happening as he listens to it whilst dozing off.

Diary Deary 12. That's enough of wanting to be away from the hustle and bustle! I don't

want to judge this island too much as the Sun changes perspective on events, and all we've

had so far is rain! We did leave the confines of the compound thissun though, as the hostess

allowed us to borrow a scooter, as she took us on a tour of the island, eventually ending up at the only Internet café. Here, we used an online translation service, with this being our first

instance of communication. We thanked her for her exceptional food and hospitality, and also

said that we'd be returning to the mainland the next sun and that we'd need transport

arranging to get back to Snappy.

On the ride back to the hostel, we drove past a shop, which I assumed was the only

one on the island. Here, we stocked up on sweets and chocolate, as we'd missed out on these

past 2 nights; they're the perfect munch to accompany lots of sunters. However, my mind did

wander at this point to this relevant quote in relation to obesity and the obsession with junk-

food: ''Do not eat your feelings.''. ''What if I'm smoking taboosh and feeling 'sweet'?'', I

thought to myself, attempting to justify purchasing this excessive amount of sugar!

Back in our confined bungalow, me and Giles decided to ditch electronic technology

for the next 3 stundas, instead attempting to come up with a joint poem. Here is our result:

''Yestersun's gone, the future is now, now. The past is the past, the future is now. Life can be simple. Respect one another, a simple touch. We can survive off the land, I scratch your back,

and you scratch mine, a helping hand, 'til the end of time. This World won't end. Life is just

too precious. It may be a mystery, but think about how great and intriguing we are, it leaves

you breathless. Bodies form with such ease, yet a complex structure we have, bones and

blood; life: The infectious disease. Water from the streams. Food all around, nothing added,

Nature provides, why should we turn it down?''. This proved to be tiring work, so after a sun

in which not a lot was accomplished, we decide to do something worthwhile and proper: Have a long, uninterrupted sleep; as this is a natural man's fundamental right.

Diary Deary 13. _''Yestersun is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Thissun is a gift of God,_

_that's why we call it the present.''_ I woke up thissun with a spring in my step and an extra beat in my heart. Yes, the hecticness of cities and towns can be overwhelming at times,

offering too much for my incessant mind to analyse, but this is what I have travelled for to

Smiyulland to overcome. I reminded myself that: ''The ego is silent in others. Silent only

because it is the only din noise to be heard. The ego has hijacked the mainframe system and

taken self -control of all matters.''. 3 suns away from it all has made me keen to get back and immerse myself in the presence of others. All in all, it has been a surreal and detached

experience for Giles and myself, with the conclusion being that Ma Lankida is a place to go

for those desiring total remoteness and serenity.

Typically, the Sun was shining thissun as we said our goodbyes and got the long-tail

boat back to the mainland, bringing out a different side to the lonely island of Ma Lankida.

We were given a lift back into Snappy, finishing off the remainder of the rock-festival

DVD, and asked to be taken back to Hostel Number 3, where the lady at reception was

surprised to see us once again. We told her our story and then checked-in for 2 nights, after

which we shall head West to Eu Will.

After some much needed Internet catch-up, we packed my rucksack with Gilo's

camera and microphone and headed down to Smile Bar for a recorded jam. They had no

problem with having our mic in front of them, so long as we ordered many alcoholic drinks

and tipped well. We were able to record many brilliant cover tacks of famous Western songs;

the artist's Rasta voice made some songs sound extremely different, with his pronunciations

often changing the meaning of some of them!

5 smalieys after leaving Smile Bar, with our heads filled with dreams of 'Live Music

Hunt' becoming extremely popular, we heard a racket and decided to follow the noise around

the corner, stumbling across some more live music, although this time with an open-mic and

a much larger, and drunker, crowd. Upon arrival, we got friendly with 2 guys from Dootland,

who turned out to be next in the queue to perform on stage, and we set up the equipment and

recorded them, too. This in fact turned into a very big night for me and Giles, as we made up

for the past 3, baron suns and stayed out until the early stundas of the morn' with fellow

travellers, playing several games of beer-pong.

With a heavy head and heavy legs, we trudged back to our hostel (This time we

weren't on the top floor, thankfully!) and our eyes slammed shut as soon as our heads had

touched the pillow. End of sun.

Diary Deary 14. Hmmmmmmm. What to say about thissun? Giles made me sit and watch some UzVid videos about anarchy and it's positives and negatives. As it turns out, it was

exactly what I needed to see! I have always had a problem with authority and have

often been referred to as an 'Iconoclast', i.e. someone who challenges established ideas

or principles. I respond to these references by saying that these people have been

inculcated, which means that they've had an idea fixed in their head via constant repetition,

something that the Western media does very cleverly and covertly. However, this video that

Giles showed me caused me to rethink my ideas on the control over people: ''I have

somewhat unwillingly accepted and understood the need, the current need should I say, for

the mass control over man's 7 billion souls. What is to be done with the herd? Anarchy it

would be. Humans would be totally lost and dumfounded. Collaboration is essential. Control

can be seen as an obvious natural necessity. But what of us? The free-thinkers? The knowers

and believers? We have to be incorporated into the system. Our oppression cannot continue.

Otherwise oblivion is inevitable. It is time to embrace our ways, thoughts and ideas.

Localised government. Self-government. Start simple and expand in time. Further the life of

man. One drop. One significantly insignificant action will cause an unstoppable expanding

ripple. Test this for yourself with water: The Flower of Life is shown. Let us emanate and

return to source. If I said that to any current, modern human, however, they'd go and put

some extra ketchup on their chips. These people don't think they're prisoners. These people

don't know they're prisoners. This is the only level of reality they have ever known.''.

After such a thoughtful start to the sun, coupled with the heavy drinking session last

night, my mind was void of action. Me and Giles lounged about in our beds for the majority

of the sunlight stundas, choosing only to head outside 15 smalieys before Hucurl United

kicked-off their match. We ambled around the corner to Boogey Bar and sat with a glass of

water each throughout the match, unable to even stare at, or contemplate the thought of, a

beer.

Post-match, which Hucurl won 3-1, we returned to our rooms and researched what

activities we should do during our upcoming stay in Eu Will, before falling to sleep relatively early. _''I do research and make up my own mind, you don't do research and have your mind_

_made for you.''_

Diary Deary 15. We arrived at Hostel Number 5 thissun to be greeted by a sign saying:

''Come stay at the worst hostel ever, according to one guy on Where2Go!''. I instantly loved

the brashness and sarcasm of this place. At check-in, hostel owner George told us about a 5-

Island sun-trip that would be taking place the next sun. I booked on, with the lethargic Mr

Washington classing it in the category of 'Too much activity'. It seems that the word 'Hassle'

has become repetitive in the spoken vocab of Mr Giles.

We were shown around the hostel, which has a huge, appealing bookcase. _''I write_

_and I write and I write. But will anyone ever read? Or will they sit staring at motion on a_ _screen? There's not enough reading nowasuns. How poor is that? There's a lack of desire to_

_actively ponder words on paper. No desire to follow the thoughts and possibilities that they_

_provide. Every sentence has the beauty of being open to personal interpretation. A writer_ _describing lush pastures of faraway lands and Worlds, places lost and stuck in the time_

_vortex, should be able to quench the fantasy thirst of any wandering mind. 'I can be_

_anything', the paper says. And with that, the read should be paused and the thinking should_ _begin.''_

We were then shown to our room, with Hostel Number 5 having some of the coolest

beds ever: Everyone has their own coffin-like chamber, with plug-socket and light. Also, hot

water showers were installed on the sun that we arrived, a bonus for myself and a 3rd-World

necessity for Mr Washington.

After de-bagging, we went for a walk to the beach via the main through-road and

quickly realised that we were in a Westernised holisun town as there were several well-

known Western business chains present! The beach that we eventually reached was

reminiscent of those found on Ma Tammy.

That evening we headed to the next beach along the coast to attend the live reggae

performance that we'd been invited to. It quickly became known to me as 'Good Vibes Beach'

because everyone was there purely for the love of the music and the occasion, except of

course the one wasted Doottish guy whose purpose it seemed was to neck anything with a

neck; he even commented that my shorts were a bit too long and that I should show some

more leg!

We had a prime spot, sat in the sand, as Giles filmed and I danced and we collectively

partied. The highlight was a brilliant rendition by a local woman of the song that we seemed

to be hearing everywhere, called 'What's The Matter With You?' - ''And I said 'Heyyyyy-

yeahhhhh-yeahhhhhh-yeahhh, what's the matter with you?!'''.

Deciding to leave around 40 smalieys after the main man, WhataGwarn, had come on

stage and with the night still having probably another stunda to go, my belief in Providence

was once again proved to be perfect as we left at such a time so as to get a lift back to

Number 5 in WhataGwarn's tour bus, with one of his associates who had been sent on a beer

run!

Diary Deary 16. After a sandy night's sleep (I had sand stuck to me everywhere from the

night before.), I climbed out of my bunk in search of a steady food source and a base for my

rumbling stomach; 10 steps and I found a lady making Fried Smiyul; mission complete.

Giles, meanwhile, found his own saviour: Another lady serving boiled rice for 20

freeyz! At the time of writing, my Fried Smiyul intake of 6 equals his boiled rice intake!

From the extreme of FLG (FLG is a popular, Western, fast-food chicken-based restaurant.) to

the plainness of daily boiled rice! Transformation.

I then left Giles at the bar with a girl who I first thought was here with her boyfriend,

but he had departed without her and I then learned that they had only known each other a

sun! They were stroking each other's legs whilst in bed together when I woke up this

morning! That's a connection in my eyes established over time, not in a sun!

I was off out exploring on the 5-Island tour. We left the hostel to collect people from

the sister hostel which is down the road and closer to the beach. With 18 people crammed

into one taxi (A mini truck.), we headed to the pier. During this time, I weaved out the

Verlish speakers and was chatting to a guy from Rinchew (Rinchew is over the sea to the

East of Verland and connected to Unon.) who has been over here for a while as a scauba-

diving instructor and a couple from Bra Choc City (Bra Choc City is a famous city on the

East coast of Awedal.). Oh, and also hostel owner George. George has been travelling the

World for a while; he spent 6 riyzs solo on a beach in The Milwin (The Milwin are a

collection of islands about 200 cases (A case is a unit of measurement and equates to a

specific distance. 1 case can be walked in around 12 smalieys.) East of here.), and then came

here and raised the roof of Hostel Number 5 from the ground. For the first 4 riyzs of business, he was pub-crawling at night and then checking-in new guests in the morning! It's now rated

No.1 on Where2Go; this is when I made the decision to stay here for the foreseeable,

extended future, as I'd like my

money to contribute to the brilliant hostel that he has created. So here I am, sat typing-up this tale, with a semi-permanent residence in this marvellous country. Also, the staff, too, are all past guests and travellers themselves; during my stay here I hope to demonstrate my

efficiency and perhaps line up a job for after Sunrise (Sunrise is the celebration that occurs in the West when the Sun has completed its cyclic journey and, after 3 suns of no movement,

begins to rise again. It is a family sun and presents are often exchanged, though the origins of what this sun represents are unknown to the masses, due to being deceived at masses.).

Back to the boat trip. First stop: Trucka beach and the infamous penis cave! The story

goes that fishermen donate carved penises in the hope of a fertile catch when they go out on

the seas. My Rinchewian acquaintance commented that I seemed too happy to be touching

these carvings; I told him that for the purposes of a picture, I would smile. I took a picture of the bay and interestingly noticed a penis shaped rock in the background. A strange

occurrence! We had a swim in a secluded spot and then returned to the boat to continue out to

sea and do some cliff-jumping. There was a storm moving in and the longboat driver-captain-

man was not keen to go near the rocks, meaning that we had to dive in and swim to a rickety

rope-ladder which was dangling into the sea. After much upper-body work, I was standing on

the cliff ledge, having to ascend a further 10 feet upwards in order to get to the highest

possible point to jump in. This was a challenging climb and I didn't know at the time, but I

know now, that I'd sliced my left foot open on the rocks. That left foot of mine truly is the

foot of grimness and death! Successfully managing the climb, I plunged 30 feet down and

back in to the lush sea. Only 3 of us made it to the highest point, as the others fell off the cliff prematurely and back in to the water. With the rain hammering down and the wind howling,

we were driven around the corner to a nearby miniature island, where we put on some snorkel

masks and jumped back in to the sea, which was comfortably warm. I stuck around my new

Rinchewian buddy, trusting his scuba-diving knowledge. The fish were pretty, as was the

coral. I really enjoyed running the underwater sand through my fingers, too. Sand is where

the heavens are found. The gathered remains of any dead sea creatures, in their minutest

forms. _''As the embodied soul continually passes in this body from youth to old age, the soul_ _similarly passes into another body at death. A sober person is not bewildered by such a_

_change. Death is a stripping away of all that is not you. The secret to life is to die before you_ _die – and find that there is no death.''_

Clams. Clams are my new favourite creature; the way that they attach themselves to

the rock, the way that they breathe. The lungs of the earth in my humble opinion. An open

clam has an intensely-rich purple colour and is vividly reminiscent of a female's lady-parts in appearance. And then, when close to contact, they close shut like a virgins legs, sealed like an envelope.

We then headed to Duckling Island to watch the bliss sunset, after which we headed

to shore, safely navigating the consistent storm.

Upon returning to the hostel, Mr Washington had not moved all sun it seemed,

supping 6 beers in the process and also brainwashing the poor girl with the concept of

'Hassle'!

We watched the Hucurl United match in the evening, spending a few more stundas

with my Rinchewian buddy, whose name I never knew, and then I hit the hay. Giles went out

to some beach-side clubs with his lady-friend. I'm sure that a 'Sex-On-The-Beach' cocktail

was consumed by them!

Diary Deary 17. Quote of the Silic: ''Good or bad remains the only question. I am not telling

you what to do, this is merely a suggestion. For as yet, the final script has not been written by hand, will it end well? Or as a tragedy telling the tale of this once great place named Verland?

Scared? Me too! But you'd be a lot less scared if you had 7 billion open, loving hearts

starting back at you. Unite. Let's fight. We can no longer pretend, whatever it may be, we

must remain together until the very end.''.

I didn't do much thissun, the sore foot meant that I was 'Harry the Hobbler'. I finished

reading Book 3, which is about a psychic animal who believes that he has the formula to

change the World. It's only 150 pages long, with the summary being that: ''The premise that

the World was made for humans is a distorted lie. We've believed that we can do whatever

we want with it but there is a forgotten equilibrating law. Animals will defend their territories and may even include competitors in their prey, but they never hunt them down just to make

them dead. Nor do they destroy their competitor's food to make way for their own. Third and

finally, animals protect their own food from their competitors yet they don't foolishly deny

the competitors their own food source; the lion defends its kill as its own but does not defend the herd as its own. Diversity is an essential survival factor for this Earth Community.

Imagine 100,000 species: If there was a 20% increase in average temperature, some would be

fine and survive, as if there was a 20% decrease in temperature. Correlate this down to 1,000

species and you'll find no survival value in any catastrophe. In order to fully and irrationally justify what we're currently doing, we feel as though we have to put an end to creation

itself.''.

It was good sitting at reception all sun; reading and watching new folks arrive to

check-in. Seeing as most people are here in Smiyulland for only a riyz, as they take a break

from their work, everyone wants to get drunk every night! Being a settled semi-resident, I'll

just be having the one 'Pub Crawl' a silic, regardless of how much I get pestered. The

Number 5 Pub Crawl consists of an agreement and an arrangement with 5 local bars to bring

down up to 30 hostel guests in return for a free shot at each bar.

I ate Fried Smiyul again thissun; the lady now knows my eating patterns and time of

hunger so she prepares it for me without need for asking. What a babe.

Diary Deary 18. I've just used ICU (ICU is an application which allows face-to-face

International calls, providing that you have an Internet connection.) and spoke to my mum for

first time since leaving. My mum was visibly distraught at seeing her child so far away from

her arms. _''Having a kid creates the henceforth purpose of life: To protect and nurture your_ _offspring. However, what happens to parent when child is stable enough to leave? Meaning_

_is lost and a new one needs to be found. This task is made harder with age.''_

Down at the beach, it was painful watching Giles crash and crawl in the waves whilst

my bandaged foot stayed firmly on the shore. I started reading Book 4 to console myself;

which attempts to explain how creation is an abrupt entry in to the otherwise timeless

formation of the lands of the World: ''Was the navel of the created human intended to

deceive him into the persuasion that he had a purpose? Might not the God of infinite truth

have enclosed in the Earth, at its creation, evidence of his having existed ages before its

actual production, and seen as being something inseparable from the condition of the World

at the moment of the irruption of creation?''.

As thissun is Maytla Sun and restaurants are scarcely open, I went to bed relatively

early on an empty stomach; although occasional fasting is good for cell rejuvenation, whilst

also speeding up metabolism.

I thought that thissun's entry was over. Oh no. It's early in the morning. I've been

singing the praises of these bed-bunks; no longer shall my opinion be so great, for it now has

grounds to be a balanced view. The grounds? The grounds of a drunken, giddy Alhaltian

(Alhalt is the country that is joined to the North of Awedal, yet also has close associations

with Unon.) girl no more than 2 feet away from me, separated only by a thin wooden panel,

being slobbered on by an equally drunk and giddy Verlish guy; clearly fulfilling his fantasy

of the near-rape of a cross-Liocross counterpart. Their brashness made me decide to turn on

my own light and finish the remaining 20 pages of Book 4. This seems to have in fact scared

them off. Thankfully. Either that or it's some really smooth sex because I hear neither noise

nor friction. Answer to be revealed in tomorrow's entry.

With the book now finished, I believe that I have been spared mental scarring, there

are no moans of jiggy-jiggy coming from next door. _''I'm coming. Oh, I'm coming alright._

_I'm coming so hard that you can't help but think of this as being sexual. And that's exactly_ _why I'm coming, because it's not, yet things and mind have become perverted so that it_

_appears so.''_ Back to sleep.

Diary Deary 19. I pray. I pray. I pray. Never to hear that voice again. Oh no, God isn't

listening. The words 'It's hard to walk after sex' are the first melancholic tones to greet my

ears this morning. Followed by a horrible rap rendition: ''Yeah, uh, I be rich, uh, I got a big'un and a big gun, uh, 2 tokes and a hit, swing for you I won't miss, uh!''! Some ruthless

monosyllabic notes definitely taken from a song that had been produced using auto-tune!

However, these sounds contrast the sharp laughs of the cleaners who seem to have heard or

interpreted what had gone on; from the lingering smell, perhaps. All that I thought was in the

air was the tinge of my weeping foot; it stinks this left foot of mine!

Wow! What a hectic 48 stundas, Smiyulland has come to life. Action-packed

occurrences. I shall continue from the morning after the night before.

I sat at reception all sun, reading. I'm on to Book 5, which is about the complete lack

of empathy shown towards the working class from politicians: ''Being born into a prosperous

middle-class family typically endows you with a safety net for life. If one is not naturally

bright, one may still go far and never experience poverty. With a good education and parent's

'Cultural capital', financial support and networks, one will be seen through comfortably.

Being born bright into a working-class family, these luxuries aren't usually afforded to you.

The class system is an invisible prison.''.

Bam! Providence! I'd rolled up a sunter to smoke and left it lying on the bar; where it

was waiting to be collected after I'd used ICU to speak to my grandparents. This guy from

Moonie inspects the sunter and instantly the bond was made. He said that he was going to

pick up a block of fiya and that he'd be back to chill with us. True to his word, Mark returned.

Mark, who has seen more suns than I, has been travelling for 10 riyzs now, having saved up

his money whilst working as an estate-agent, and goes back to Verland in the next 2 riyzs or

so. He's spent time in Dowpathia whilst travelling and has stayed at Hostel Number 5 on 2

previous occasions. I've learned, especially since being at Hostel Number 5, that great souls

appear on average once every 4 suns; they have to be filtered from the others who are mainly

out here for drinking and sex.

We lounged all night, across the road, in a bar, playing pool and darts. Simple stuff,

yet the conversation mimicked that of one that I could have with any of my best friends.

'Political Awareness' is what I'd refer to it as. 'Change Awareness', perhaps. Anyway, this

dude was legit. We talked for ages, Mark having many-a crazy story to tell, including an

extremely

long and detailed one that definitely needs to be chronicled into a book. It would be an

injustice to even attempt to even write a little about it myself, I'd miss out too many details.

Before sleep, Mark spoke of a mythical place that was nearby, and we agreed to meet

up at midsun during the next sun and check it out.

Diary Deary 20. I'd like to confess to you before I begin that some details are bound to be

missed out from thissun's events, seeing as plenty of eye-catching events happened.

I woke up, had a black coffee and waited for Mark's arrival. I hopped on the back of

his 'ped so that he could take me down the road; enabling me to hire a scooter of my own. ~4

per sun and ~2 to fill-up the tank with petrol.

We departed Eu Will, with Giles on the back of Mark's because he didn't trust my

driving and was too scared to drive himself. As always, I tried to turn this event into

something beyond what could be seen with the eyes, saying to my nomadic companion: ''Do

not be scared. Keep fear from emitting out of your body for then death has no place to enter.

Why do people think so little of death? Because the rulers demand too much of life, therefore

the people take death lightly.''. And, in standard Giles fashion, he replied: ''Sat here, on the back of this scooter, is unique. I am not in control at all here, my life is in Mark's hands, I must await my fate.''. Mark said that it was a 10 smaliey drive to our destination; thankfully it was more like 20. I was in my element. Sunshine, 2 wheels, open road, wind, zoom zoom

zoom! I loved it. At one point we turned on to a highway and I started overtaking the

lethargic motor cars.

We'd arrived. Gobber Farm. I'll give you an overview first and then the events

afterwards. Gobber Farm: Owned by an Awedali woman who has married a Smiyul man. She

has 2 kids who are home-schooled. These kids actually own the land and it will be theirs in

sirculs to come. ~1 entry. Tortoises. Catfish. Crocodiles. An elephant. Birds. A monkey. A

sheep. Rivers. Deep fresh-water ponds. Fruit. Just an all-round, brilliant Nature reserve. This place is off-the-map at the moment, not many of the fleeting travel folk know about it; Mark

only found it when he was lost trying to make his way back to Eu Will that last occasion he

was in town. In a few sirculs though, this premises should be well built-up and a popular

tourist place.

We were greeted by a brown, bandaged-up sheep named Polly; she had a broken hoof.

Also at reception were the Awedali lady and the monkey, named Petal. This monkey is so

great that she has a ClockOn page and yet the business doesn't! There's an instant affection

generated when you see a monkey cradling a kitten; as we learned that Petal had taken a

kitten from a new-born litter and now treats it as her own child. More monkey business to

come.

We went for a walk around the site, dishing out the fish food that we'd received; it

was hilarious watching the fish come to the surface and contest for a tasty pellet. Next,

Crocodiles. At first, there was not much interest from them, so we decided to rouse them with

a branch from a tree. An almighty snap! Giles ran and shook his steady camera hand, even

though there was no way that they could reach us! We continued walking and found the

family house plonked in the middle of the grounds; seemingly guarded by a fat, hairy pig and

his sidekick band of ducks. I christened them 'The Oinkey Quacker Brigade'.

We returned back to reception and started stripping off for a swim. The fun begins.

This monkey is unbelievable. She has so much love in her heart because of the warmth that

she receives from her human-e family. Petal and her 'husband' Roger had been rescued from

some fishermen who had them tied up; this story has been documented in a colouring book

made by the Awedali lady for her kids as a Verlish-learning exercise, which we read through.

Roger was tragically killed by a snake 3 riyzs prior to our visit, meaning that Petal was now

alone, hence the kitten. More to come on that one.

So, Giles stayed in the cafe filming the action whilst me and Mark went swimming.

Splash! Petal flies through mid-air and joins us in the water. Every time she jumps in she

specifically tries to land on your head. Anyway, a swimming monkey. Petal climbs all over

you, trying to nibble your ears, swimming to catch you up if you try to escape her. I climbed up a tree to jump in and encouraged Petal to swing up and climb on to me so that we could

jump off together. Swimming in a fresh, flowing spring, in the Sun, with a monkey: A

Smiyulland pinnacle so far. Unfortunately, going back to earlier, a neighbour appeared with a

dead snake and it caused Petal to panic; she wouldn't come back in to the water. The snake

stirred the traumatic event of Roger's death. Mark has a waterproof Eye-Am camera so at

least we'd already got some good footage of her in the water with us.

Even the ice-cream at this place was interestingly different; rainbow coloured it was.

We were recommended a beach to drive to which was a good place to watch the Sun

set apparently, so we headed for there, promising to return one future sun and saying goodbye

with a wave as we reached the eye's horizon.

We drove to a beach which lay in solitude. Completely still. We then became artists

for 30 smalieys, drawing in the sand. Although, I had noticed that Nature herself provided the

best artwork: The balls of sand made by crabs when they're digging their chamber holes.

As we took turn playing songs, each trying to out-do the last one, the Sun was slowly

setting in the distance, and we didn't want to be driving home in total darkness so we chose to depart. Mark is also enthusiastic about Cotojuice curries, so during the journey back, we

stopped off at a restaurant he knew, where we ordered a steak that was covered in a sloppy,

rich Cotojuice sauce.

After showers and an Internet and news catch-up, we went to the 'RastaManVibration

Bar' for an underground jam. We sat directly below the stage, meaning that we got to

experience the reverberating sounds of the live music above us. They were playing any song

that had a strong bass. We met a guy from Grizugme (Grizugme is the 'second city' of

Verland, located centrally.), but our main acquaintance became our waiter, called Sully, who

said that we could go to his house when he finishes work to check out his hand-made bong.

We did so, and my oh my, what a hit! We coughed until tears fell, while Sully smoked

it like a pro. He was amazed when we said that he would be able to sell these bongs in

Verland for ~30.

We smoked up and then drove down to the club scene, 'MiddleWay', which was

obviously a bad idea after inhaling copious amounts of fiya, as me, Giles and Mark were in

no fit social-interacting state. We purchased a tasty kebab, as we could happily eat and eat in silence, before crashing to sleep back at our respective hostels (Mark was staying across the

road as Number 5 was fully-booked at the moment, whereas the hostel that he was staying in

had 50 empty beds and he was the sole guest!).

A good, long sun.

Diary Deary 21. I woke up in the morning, yet not getting out of bed until midsun, as I

finished off the remaining pages of Book 5, with my final summary being that: ''Thissun's

nepotistic consensus is not all round equality, but about escaping the working class and an

enlargement of the middle class. Aspiration has been redefined to mean individual self-enrichment.''.

I spoke to Mark on ClockOn and we arranged to head down together to the rental

store, with my moped needing to be returned in the afternoon. After dropping the scooter off

and munching on a seafood pizza, we went down to the beach, where we read and sunbathed.

My foot has healed now so I took advantage of this and went to play with the waves. There's

also a large group of monkeys down at this beach who pester you for food. The group are

large in number I believe because of all the food that they are able to eat/steal from the

tourists and travellers, thus causing their pack-expansion. These monkeys were a little more

aggressive in nature than the placid Petal, so much so that we witnessed a couple of territorial fights.

Whilst walking in the sand, looking down and seeing my footprint caused me to

remember this quote: ''As a single footstep will not make a path on the Earth, so a single

thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again

and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts

that we wish to dominate our lives.''.

Mark gave me a lift back to the hostel, with Giles walking because he wouldn't get on

a moped along with 2 other people! I ate some Fried Smiyul, had a shower and now I'm sat

here typing.

We went out in the evening to the reggae bar again, but sat upstairs this time, so that

Giles could record some footage. I spoke to Mikey C whilst there on ICU; he was sat

watching the band live alongside us on my tablet screen. It was brilliantly intense watching

the band. On appearances, they are a group of mismatches, but as a whole they combine into

a superb collective. My favourite was the female bassist who produces minimal body

movement; I've never seen anyone stand so rigidly upright for so long, but wow could she

jam.

We came back to the hostel and watched a couple of 'The Cramlingtons' episodes as

we talked the night away.

Diary Deary 22. I had a huge sleep last night, crawling out of bed in the early afternoon. I did have the intention of lying in bed in full contentedness until early evening, the time at which Hucurl United were due to kick-off, but food called. I had a pizza again with a delicious

mango smoothie. Apparently mangoes are the fruit to be eaten in compliment with taboosh; it

increases the effects.

I bought a teeny tiny bottle of straight Aloe-Vera juice from the store on the walk

back from the restaurant; I don't ever remember it tasting like that; it was very bitty and had a distinct popcorn taste to it! Store4U stores are everywhere in Smiyulland; they pop-up every

half a mile or so. It just shows the global influence of Awedal in the fact that they supply

most of the convenience stock. Whilst in the store, I saw that there was a technician present,

as one of their tills had stopped working, which made me think that: ''Men have become the tools of their tools. The robots are nothing if not versatile.''.

Returning back to Number 5, I booked us in to stay there for another silic; this really

is the place to be. There are also 3 people from Alhalt who arrived here on the same sun that

we did and they've done the same thing.

This evening was merely a case of football galore: We watched 3 consecutive games

in the pool bar across the road, accompanied by Gary from Grizugme, who we'd

met 2 nights previously in the reggae bar. This pool bar is one of the greatest bars imaginable.

Free pool. Free darts. Free games console. UzVid requests. The bar is owned by Homa, who

comes from Moonie.

Gary then showed us an interesting video on UzVid, saying that recently he'd become

particularly interested in the ways of 'Maritime Law'. It seems that we are held to laws,

which revolve around money, which should only relate to those who are trading

on the sea, and us human-es on the land should be held in account of the natural 'Common

Law'. _''What is the current sea (Currency.) that you are sailing on, brother? My citizen-ship_ _is currently docked in the share (~.), being kept in its place by the river banks. From these_ _banks my (Cash.)flow is being well managed, so much so that the prospect of liquidation is_

_very far off. If I break any rules that they've made me sign, I'll have to go stand in the dock_ _and present my berthing certificate and plead my innocence.''._

__

After shell-shockingly digesting this seemingly true information, I needed to lie down

to be able to think more and take it all in.

Diary Deary 23. I awoke thissun with productive intentions. Little did I know that the

productivity would turn out to be so physical; however, it would prove to be a realisation that awoke me from the slump of my as of yet lethargic travels. Tara, from Turbil (Turbil is a

liberal country found North East of Verland on the map.), working at Hostel Number 5,

invited us to go play football in Snappy Town with other staff members and some locals.

Turning out in our heavy walking boots, me and Giles accepted the invitation, unaware of the

pounding our limbs were about to receive. We made our way there like true Smiyul people: 4

of us sitting in the back of a truck, being driven by the Verlish man, Tommy Black; who

during this invited us to go watch the local professional side, Snappy FC, with him at their

next home match. There was a very eclectic mix of participants on the football pitch, ranging

from a Bacit (A Bacit is a resident of the largest country on the continent of Mydow (Known

as Bacity.).), a Titmalian (Titmal being a large country which is found on the continent South

of Awedal.) ex-pro, Awedalis, locals and the tantalizingly tricky Turbi, Tara. During the

match she nutmegged her Smiyul boyfriend, which subjected him to endless taunts from the

locals.

That evening I was crying out for a massage, but due to the lack of any tangible action

from Giles, this wish failed to materialise. The evening's entertainment was brought to us by

the beach, my speaker and various Internet videos on UzVid, following on from the

interesting topic that was introduced to me last night. ' _'Sadistic saturation. That's a term_ _which, upon analysis, can efficiently describe the current 'No Hope' and fear when it comes_ _to finding a satisfying path in life and aspiring to have your dreams fulfilled. Relating to_ _money in its liquid, maritime sense, it has saturated into the soggy sponge called society._

_Squeeze it and it would pour out, yet currently the rich have absorbed it all. Verland as a_ _country has saturated. Our labour has been sent overseas and we no longer produce our fair_

_share. All we have on a global front is Moonie as the International capital for banking, and_ _even that is all corrupt. This country needs to burst back into life, to be dragged of its' knees_ _and evolved. The law system has saturated. Those who make and enforce them need to know_

_them thoroughly and abide by them. There are too many legal loopholes that too many_

_people are unaware of. Personal liberty has been unknowingly submitted. The pen-and-_

_paper-pushing routine is no longer a true, fit method on how to ascertain punishment. It's_

_ruthless and inhuman-e, robotic to a degree. Let us try to have compassion and educate_

_properly the supposed perpetrator. All laws have ironically saturated into the opposite_

_statement which now applies: Guilty until proven innocent. Verland, in this supposed 'Age of_ _Aquarius', let's turn the taps back on and get the country flowing again.''_

Diary Deary 24. The morning after the sun before. I awoke feeling ripe in age. Hostel

Number 5 is perfect at concealing sunlight and therefore any sense of time; I am fed up of

waking-up at midsun! Each footstep down the stairs felt like the crushing of a bone. Thissun's

plan was to hire a moped again and take Mark to see our friends at the Smile Bar in Snappy. I

was eager to put my wrist to the throttle once more.

Before that however, the small matter of lifting my leg over the bike! It was a nice 25

smaliey drive to Snappy. However, my eyes were made sore momentarily by the large,

protruding drill that could be seen off in the distance towards the shore. 'Warning: This is a

Government Fracking Site' read the sign. I then remembered that I'd seen this same sign

actually inside the Smile Bar, as they had joined an initiative to rally against such

governmental procedures, although they had added their own little motto to it: ''Fracking?

No need to drill into the ground, free energy is all around, it surrounds. Do your own

research. What I say is the truth. We masses can unite and knock the puppeteers off their

perch.''.

Upon arrival in Snappy, Giles obviously requested an obligatory stop off at FLG.

Soon after, we were jamming with our buddies, who gave us a free block of fiya for sending

another customer their way. Hustlin'. We didn't have chance to stay for the live music as we

were anxious to depart before a thunderstorm came down on us.

Riding home in the dark was a challenge, so much so that I took a wrong turn and

then appeared to be very low on petrol all of a sudden. Uh oh. After getting my bearings, I

realised that I was in the village where the reggae festival took place. Whilst filling-up my

tank, costing ~2 and lasting about 60 cases, I saw Gilo and Mark drive past. Because I ride

fast and solo, I'd agreed to meet them back in Eu Will, but here we were together again; they

too had taken a wrong turn. We drove back to the reggae bar near Hostel Number 5 and

chilled with Sully, our bong buddy.

Over the past couple of suns, Mark has had an infected bite of his ankle which has

kept on swelling and swelling. We went over the road to a 24-stunda medical centre. It's

never good when you hear the words 'Drip' and 'Anaesthetic'. The doctor quoted Mark

~120, saying that it would be a stunda-long procedure to drain the fluid. He reluctantly

agreed. Meanwhile, while Mark went to withdraw money, I had 3 professional doctors awe-

struck by my ghastly left foot; yestersun's football had reopened my wound. I allowed the

doctors to remove my bandage and have a poke around. The doctor made a very good point,

one that I hadn't thought of, that my wound hadn't healed properly because the skin is dead

and therefore unlikely to grow any time fast. He quoted me ~40, which I respectfully

declined for the moment, saying that I would give it some thought. Once again, Providence

shows her face later down the line. _''You cannot take my freedom as I am not the owner of_

_this freedom. That belongs to The Providencer, the creator. And once you start doing that as_ _they have been doing, then if Nature is as conscious as I believe her to be, then wow, have_ _they, we, got it coming. Climate change, perhaps? Mother Earth attacks!''_

Leaving Mark in the able hands of the doctors, we returned to our slumber chambers.

I lay in bed, once again cursing the lateness. I'd had enough! I proceeded to look online for

the time at which the Sun rises in these parts; setting my alarm at the precise time. I was also disappointed to miss out again on a much needed massage. The Dazzled Pool and The Plunge

Pool some 70km away were my chosen destination for tomorrow's adventure.

Diary Deary 25. 4 stundas sleep. Who cares?! I'm on the road. Here I go again on my own. I

left early, asking Tara to inform Giles of my daily intentions. I hurtled across the roads of

Smiyulland at some speed. The carriageways are long and flat and I often found myself

overtaking cars. Burn petrol burn! 'The Dazzle Pool' and 'Plunge Pool' are local beauty spots

for which I'd seen several signposts for whilst ferrying back and forth from Snappy Town.

Seeing as I'd rented the bike until sunset, I thought that I might as well go for it.

After missing a couple of turnings, I made it there in the end: Empty bellied, bladder

brimming, spirt high in the sky. The Dazzle Pool is a naturally-sourced, clear-water pond,

renowned for its soothing properties. The walk along the gravel path to get to it was

tantalising. There it was. A pristine blue. Ah Nature; all the best things are free. I'd read that the best time to come here was early morning, another reason for my abrupt decision to rise

early. Sure enough, just one other family was here bathing. I hadn't intended to swim,

assuming that it was forbidden, but this opportunity couldn't be missed. I lay there, floating in the water for 5 smalieys, noticing that extra company was provided for me by the exquisite

pink-coloured dragonflies which hardly made a sound, adding to the beautiful stillness of this

tranquil heaven. It felt as though my limbs moved a lot easier on the walk back to the moped!

Next stop: The Plunge Pool. This was the real reason for my journey and Providence

surfaced again here. _''Ever feel like someone lives your life, but it's never you? Desire is_ _destructive. We're drip fed spoonful's of cravings yet we never get to finish the bowl. We feel_ _that we're not in control of our own lives. We fear that we're not in control of our own lives._

_Embrace this fear, life is an uncontrollable constant, that's what makes it fun. It's how we_ _deal with this fear that makes life. We are more in control than we could ever know._

_Accepting what happens as an unavoidable challenge is the best way to deal with it. We_ _cannot control the factor, but we can control the emotional outcome, and it is through these_ _responses that we are seen by others in this physical World.''_ Never mind a massage, here I am, sat updating this journal to you all, receiving a bodily blessing from Nature. My foot is

soaking and soothing; my skin being encouraged to grow. It was like having a warm bath

with a constant turned-on tap and constant bubbles. I could bathe here daily. Being the fore-

thinker that I am, I also brought my dirty clothes with me and have just given them an

authentic hand wash.

On the drive home, I kept the speedo on 80 and saved half as

much petrol, as I wasn't accelerating. I arrived back at my favourite time of sun: Check-in

time. A new influx of people. Plenty of good ones thissun too. Let's see, first a girl from

Moonie who had just flown over from Dowpathia, having been there for 6 riyzs working on

some remote ranches. Also there were 3 guys from Moonie too; a ginger named Adam being

the main talker. They're in Smiyulland for one riyz of intenseness with no stories told and all secrets kept when they return to Verland. I basically just became this guy's counsellor for the evening. He's just arrived from Whukarez, which is well-known in Smiyulland as the place to

party.

His mouth and mind were in overload of his events there, because the reason that he's out

here is to see whether he should go home and get married or go home and break-up. There

were several contradictory arguments put forth, such as how he feels like there's lots of

partying left in his bones, but in end it was clear that he should go home and settle because he was undoubtedly in love, judging by the sheer amount that he had to say on the matter. I

listened well.

Finally, 2 girls from Gutendow (Gutendow is a land found a short distance West of

Verland, separated by a small sea.) who we met smoking a sunter; they're off to Illoivis

tomorrow which meant that they had to smoke their remaining stock. That was the evening

really. My foot is a lot better and I went to bed early after my early rise.

Diary Deary 26. My one man attempt to turn Hostel Number 5 into 'Rise-And-Shine Hostel'

lasted for a measly sun. I awoke just before midsun, and then read the 23-paged 'Book 6',

which teaches you tricks on how to be successful in an argument, and also what to look out

for when analysing the deliverance of politicians' speeches and how they try to deceive what

they're actually saying. _''Politician's speeches and mainstream media headlines are_

_examples of irrelevant, eloquent rhetoric. Pre-written. No individuality. No thought._

_Corporate jargon sentences laced with vagueness. No scratching of the surface. Generic,_

_calming words that allow them to move on to the next agenda. How dare they! We want,_

_require and deserve the thorough truth. Who cares if it all sound fine and dandy? They just_ _repeat the same-old recurring, reaffirming, reassuring sentences that the masses want to, or_ _think they want to, hear. And that's the end of it. No! No! No! Question! Question! Question!_

_Life is lost when ignorance reigns. Words need to be set right. Misusing words leads to lies._

_When words have been debased, big lies are even easier.''_

__

By this time, Giles had already departed for the 5-Island tour, having been persuaded

to attend by Adam the evening before. This left me and Mark with a sun to do whatever and

go wherever; we were no longer restricted by Giles's fear of scooters. We went for a drive and eventually ended up chilling with some local fishermen who appeared to live under a

bridge. Perhaps they were mystics. They were certainly mystical, with one coming out with

this gem-of-a-quote: ''Believe in the future, believe in your actions. Got to put your heart into it, there can be no retraction. The river shall flow in your direction. We all make mistakes, no one's got perfection. Don't be selfish, we all work hard. Does someone who sits in an office

deserve more money than someone who sells fish?! It's not about the salary; it's all about

reality and making some noise.''. It was good to chat to some locals and watch them apply

their trade. They quoted us a too steep of a price of ~50 for a 3 stunda ride with them. We

politely declined.

Climbing back on to Mark's moped, we headed back in to Eu Will for some dinner,

which was accompanied by some interesting UzVid videos, courtesy of the Internet on

Mark's phone. ~10 credit lasts for a riyz with unlimited Internet. I ordered a delicious chicken dish accompanied with fresh ginger. We stayed here for another drink after eating because

the shakes were too delicious just to buy one. First, I had a blended smoothie with succulent

strawberries, ripe raspberries and some fat, beasty blueberries. After the meal, I had a

strawberry shake with a scoop of ice-cream. Full? Fat belly? Feeling lethargic?! Perfect time

to go for your first massage then!!

We went to a 5* spa where Mark has stayed before (Using the Gravel (Gravel is a

hotel-booking company.) booking app, at midnight it's possible to get excellent hotels at a

similar price to hostels.). Now, this was a funny experience. I felt like a model porn-star

and a celebrity, coming away with the feeling that the masseuses enjoyed it more than I did!

We ordered an oil massage in a candlelit room. We were encouraged to strip and lie on our

backs whilst we experienced soft bliss. At the start, I was scared that I was going to be rising off the bed because my erect penis might push me up! Luckily, I managed to control my

wandering imagination and settled into an emptiness within my mind. Mark, however, had

trouble. When he turned over for a frontal massage, giggles could be heard; he had a bulging

semi. Thankfully, a towel covered my eyes. My masseuse was keen to extend the booking

beyond a stunda, and when massaging my thighs and bum, cheekily suggested that she would

give me a wax! I declined.

The massage was great and I could have fallen asleep straight after it. After sipping

green tea and chomping on a slice of fudge, we left and headed out on to the road; letting

Providence shows us the way to a great Cotojuice curry, and boy did we follow the Yellow

Brick Road. I sat and ate my favourite Cotojuice yet, costing a reasonable ~3.

I am back at the hostel now and tonight is a going to be a heavy drinking session. My

agreement with Giles was, with him going for a sun out, I'd go out tonight. I had whiskey-on-

the-rocks by my side when the group got back from the tour and now I'm sat here writing this

entry. The Pub Crawl starts just before midnight. I always feel like I miss little things out

when I update every 2 suns but I guess some memories are best kept memories. Okay, speak

tomorrow, perhaps with a heavy head. Stay safe.

Diary Deary 27. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Welcome to Smiyulland. This should technically be classed as yestersun's entry but it's a passage in it's own right. Ever

experienced events that could quite possibly have been a dream?! The fact that I awoke to

visions of playing table tennis and discussing life with Graham Houston (Graham Houston is

an obscure, Western football-commentator.) means that anything could have happened in my

mental continuum last night. I was not able to distinguish the difference between dreamy

episodes or true events. The night started off as any does at Hostel Number 5: Pub Crawl;

with beer-pong and a large vase-shaped glass of rum, whiskey and cola. Banging tunes also.

This was a good night to have my first trip on to the side streets of Eu Will: Lots of

people were out partying and spirits were high. With Hostel Number 5's sister hostel's guests

joining us, in total there were about 30 revellers in our mass group. We got a taxi first to the Bovva (A 'Bovva' is a person who was once a male but has decided to have an operation so

that they now have female body parts instead.) strip, PRC, and gathered in a circle outside as

bottles of tequila were passed around. Neck it! Giles was out of his sanity already, having

been drinking all sun on the boat trip, and he was clinging to Tara, who seemed to be leading

him and several other residents along. But in Giles's view, she belonged to him, as

demonstrated by various arm blockages which he performed this evening.

The first bar was a chance for everyone to chat with each other, whilst in the sober,

onlooking eyes of the caring staff members Rex (Rex comes from Alhalt, too, and is friends

with the 3 people previously mentioned, having attended the same school as them.), Robert

and Jess, all of who are on a 30 sun alcohol-abstinence sabbatical. Shots were purchased on

our behalf, yet no one seemed to want them. Neck it! As well as staff, Mark was also a sober

onlooker due to his antibiotics; he has some good footage from the evening. This links in

nicely and leads on to club number 2. Now, most of us walked to the main club area,

MiddleWay. Gilo, however, somehow made his way there on the back of someone's scooter.

Not, however, without a stop at a Store4U. There's footage of him smashing beer bottles as

he gesticulates with the shop keeper, trying to convince her to give him a 2-4-1 deal on beer.

In the process, he loses his flip-flops and also cuts his foot on the bottle that he'd smashed.

When I arrived at the bar, I couldn't believe that Giles was already there and

couldn't believe the hectic events which had taken place in all of 5 smalieys. No more alcohol

was required here, it was all about the dancing. I was clearly happy about something. Giles

came crashing back down to reality in here, with head in hands, sat on a chair, as Tara was no

longer conversing with him.

Now, this is where events become hazy and reality hard to determine. It was the

middle of the night and I was out of it. I stumbled down to the beach, I know this much. I was

making myself sick repeatedly, and I know for sure my life was helped by a guy sat next to

me who supplied me with multiple bottles of water. The next 3 stundas are a blur. Anything

could have happened to me. I woke up to a Bovva touching me with its 'thing' out in the open

and dangerously close to me. I looked down and my pants were still on and there was no

soreness at my rear. Argh.

I was then rescued by a local lady who may have been an escort girl; she said that

she'd give me a lift home on her bike. At this point, I couldn't process anything, I didn't even know who I was, even now, this all could have been a dream as I definitely didn't do anything

to which I can say 'I consciously made that decision'. Time was unknown, as was the

whereabouts of the group. I climbed on to the back of her 'ped and hugged her warm body.

Baby wanted his crib.

'Errrr, you've just drove past Hostel Number 5!' 'Yes yes, it's okay, you come with

me.' Apparently, from what images are in my mind, we went back to her house, which

resembled a crack-den. There was some other foreign bloke there, who was being led in to a

bedroom by another one of these girls. She then asked me for money, the confirmation that

she was in fact an escort girl, and by this point I was already lying down on a bed. I resisted attempts to pay any cash, and I believe that I had somehow managed to roll a sunter during

all this and I was trying to appease her monetary needs by offering simple narcotics instead.

She was less than impressed and went into a psycho fit. I remember asking to go to the toilet

and then made my getaway, not without first seeing this other guy pinned-up against a wall

and definitely being groped and raped. I had no idea where I and was frightened that she

would chase me on her scooter; they often threaten you with getting the local mafia on your

case! I came across a Store4U and hid behind the counter and asked the lady 'Which way to

Eu Will?'. Another scooter drove past, this time with a Bovva driving it. I flagged he/she

down and asked for a lift. This kind person kindly obliged and yes, I was home. It took me a

while to get my key in the door, obviously. When I entered, there was Giles, passed out

downstairs with blood on his shirt. I have no idea what had happened. Everyone has different

stories to tell.

What a mad, mad night. I fell asleep and woke up at about midsun. Needless to say,

nothing has happened thissun. I went for another smoothie with Mark to detox my body and

had some chicken and rice with basil leaves, and then spent the remainder of the sun sat in

the study listening to videos on UzVid, particularly videos to do with the origins of words

(Etymology.) and how they're unknowingly used in thissun's society. For example, 'God'

goes back to 'Goth' and then 'Got', which is where we get the saying 'That's my gut feeling',

I.e. The feeling of all-knowing God. I've also discovered that the word mortgage means

'Death pledge'! _''What came first: Language or Thought? Etymology came last!'' ''We've_

_been sentenced to the wards of these words, which can be seen as swords if misunderstood;_

_hence why the pen is mightier than the sword. This is how, in fact, this well-known saying_

_came about.''_

Diary Deary 28. Quote of the Silic: ''Gnosis. That has to be the opening word. Anything else

would just be absurd. 'Knowledge through experience'. The past creating the future. Spiritual

practise. Wake up. Focus. Turn off your computer. Go Now Outside, Sit In Silence. Meditate

on the fact that society is ignorant to blatant violence.''.

It's absolutely chucking it down thissun. I started to read Book 7, which describes the

pacifist and tactical ways in which wars can be fought. So far, I have read 7 books in just

over 3 silics. If you, the reader, are a light-reader yourself, then this passage may consider

you to do otherwise: ''Grab a book and read it. You'll learn, I guarantee it. Words teach.

They lead to independent, conscious thought. Voices don't, they instruct, being egotistical

and passing on their speaker's thoughts. They etch a blueprint on the mind. Letters don't.

They are the pencil to sketch your own map. They are calm and just, sympathetic and understanding of your situation. Grab a book and read it. Choose literature not television. In

this sense, language is re-generating; the subject can be re-created by the means of

language.''.

Also, I went across to the post-office and sent Mikey C and Ben a present each. I

also uploaded a reggae CD, which we purchased at the beach festival, on to my tablet. Rain is

forecast for all sun so there's not much going on I don't think, I'm going to go get some food

now and do some more reading, then watch some more etymology videos later. Up-to-date

again and I shall speak to you soon. Peace.

I've just been for a Nic Mum Wil soup (Nic Mum Wil soup contains prawns and

tomatoes as well as various spices.) with an Awedali girl who's been here for a couple of

suns. We had a good chat about the history of Sarow (Sarow is a country found in Mydow.). I

say good chat; I'm not sure how I knew so much on the topic! She'd travelled across Mydow

to get here and was telling me about some mystical coastal trails that she'd walked.

The rain here slows everyone down and it felt like an extremely lazy sun. However, in

the evening, things moved quickly. Giles was keen to go to the reggae bar; 1 to see Tara and

2 to watch/hear the music. Okay, sweet. With me somewhat unsocial and deep in the music, I

felt a little isolated from the vibe of the table. Not to worry, I went downstairs to chill with the waiters for a bit. This is where and when people started appearing and enhancing the

night. I met and smoked with the performer who was soon to go upstairs to put on a fire

show, and then met a great guy from Turbil who's been travelling for a sircul. Me and Gregor

then proceeded to have a talk, well, more listen to the screams of, a drunken Alhaltian man.

What an intriguing guy. Now, he may have been hammered, and this gave the impression that

everything he said was utter lies, such as living in the tropical jungle for 20 sirculs - he was pale-skinned - and also being a rich ex-drug-lord who now lives here in Eu Will. He also said

that he could see in my eyes that I wanted to 'Do something serious' with my life. Yet, when

the barman gave him his tab to be paid, he pulled out a huge wad of money, paid, and then

left a generous ~20 tip! Money doesn't prove everything, but it sure added to the mystery of

this proclaiming man. During this, 4 Unonch dudes made their way downstairs and into my

life and were now sat in our circle.

With the bar closing, we headed upstairs and decided to go to MiddleWay. I feel

like a local of Eu Will now so I wanted to show these guys the eerie and graphic night-time

sights. So, the unsocial gravla ('Gravla' is a Western word used to describe a person who

smokes taboosh.) had managed to merge together quite an eclectic group. Also, throw in a

Bacit who appeared out of nowhere in the back of our taxi. He was travelling solo and was

high on some drugs that he'd plugged up his rear and brought here from Ouchwil. Ah,

Smiyulland.

With Giles hammered, we went to Ellie's Bar for a chill and a chat. The final guy to

accompany us was a philosophical Owdoen (Owdoe is a largely populated country just to the

West of Smiyulland and known for its extreme ranges between wealth and poverty.) man

who was asking all the right questions in my opinion. He was surprised at the length of some

of my answers, although I was saying quite a bit on the matters so that the religious Unonch

guy felt like I was covering both sides of the conversation (Namely, whether God and science can exist together. Book 4 helped me to answer this.).

Giles is a World-away with his large pupils when he's drank a bit. He was also hyped-

up on romantic charges due to the presence of Tara. He thus had to be refrained and

restrained from attacking a security officer who seemed to be roughly handling a drunken

lady (It turns out that she'd been thrown halfway down some escalators!). Giles also

discovered that he'd broke a table in one of the bars when we were out the other night! More

on this later in the book.

After plenty of dancing, one of the Unonch guys became fascinated with an escort

girl; his friend not too pleased that he was sinking to such depths. They argued quite a bit

before we were able to leave, with both asking me to back them up on the matter. I declined,

holding true to this verse that was whirling around my mind: ''No one is pure, it's a double

sided coin. If you retain your moral superiority over others who are involved in struggle, you

must also be able to avoid the difficult task of committing oneself to analysing the current

predicament and picking a side.''.

Just before sunrise: A sunter and a stroll on the beach. A Smiyul guy, a Verlish, a

Turbilish, a Bacit, an Awedali and a Unonch man. Sweet times.

I came back to the hostel with a bare-footed Giles (He'd just lost a sandal amidst the

sand.), who was insisting on one episode of 'The Cramlingtons' before we went to bed.

Diary Deary 29. Rain really does limit options. With yet another downpour, I was able to

finish Book 7. Still, not much to do. I had to hire a bike at some point to return for a

rendezvous in Snappy with Mr. Happy.

Me and Mark made the wet, 20 smaliey ride; me fully decked out in my waterproof

fishing gear. After arriving, the friendly Mr. Happy took me to his house and gave me the

fiya that we'd ordered on our last visit. His house was across the road in a hotel and he pays

~140 per riyz for it. He offered me a job whilst we were talking in his room! He says that I 
can go back after I've finished travelling and then work and live there. I told him thanks for

the offer. I'll keep it open.

What?! Wow! A break in the story here: Giles has just come downstairs with an extra

ear-piercing! Crazy guy!

Me and Mark came back from Snappy to watch the Kidriv (Kidriv are Hucurl

United's main rivals.) match down at Hostel Number 5's beach hostel. We then returned

here and sat in the astro-turfed treehouse and watched some more videos on UzVid.

UzVid. UzVid. UzVid. That's all I seem to be mentioning recently! I could have

saved myself the money and effort and done all of this back in Verland! Tonight, Mark

showed us a deep video that attempts to explain 'What God is' and how we as human-es

affect the life around us. _''Matter arises as quantum fluctuations from the ground of being,_ _constituting both matter and mind, there's a dual aspect and possibility. Does then, as in the_ _double-slit experiment, our consciousness and presence determine which duality is present_

_and manifested? This is causality (Subject and object.) and is therefore possible in realms_ _beyond us. God is what mind becomes when it has passed beyond the scale of our_

_comprehension. Pure potential is available at source and this, with man, creates the scale_

_(Pure potentiality – Complete actuality.). This then leads onto Occam's Razor, which is that_ _among competing hypothesis, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected. More_

_complicated solutions may prove to be true, but in the absence of certainty, the fewer_

_assumptions the better. The life of yours which you are living is not merely a piece of the_ _entire existence, but is the whole. In this life, I shall experience all conceivable experiences_ _known to Universe.''_

__

That's all I did with my sun. It's nice having little to do some suns as it balances out

the tiring, activity-rich suns. Up-to-date now. I'm going to go and sit with Gilo and listen to his events from last night. I'm supposed to be playing football again later thissun. This and

more shall be included in the next publication.

Diary Deary 30. So, thissun, during my failed exam to see whether or not I can acquire a

Smiyul driving-license, thus meaning that I would be able to purchase my own scooter, I

have first-hand experienced how engrained authority has become in the human psyche,

uncontrollably: ''We crumble in the presence of those we consider to be our superiors and

our judges. This at the same time sub-consciously justifies in our own mind their standing

above us, as we show our worst side in their presence, sweating and stumbling, while they

remain ice cool, somewhat unaware. This is key. After sirculs and sirculs of master and

servant, our mind automatically projects this reality. This is the last time that I shall

experience these negative projections, for I now see and understand them. Thank you for this

opportunity, World, I shall move forth. Lesson learnt.''

Besides this little opening outburst, I'm not too sure where I left you; I think it was

the moment when Giles came downstairs with an extra ear-piercing. That's the thing about Eu

Will, if you dare to head out to MiddleWay then something wild is bound to happen. Giles

was giving me a drunken lecture about how we need to move on from here soon before he

falls in love with Tara. He got his ear pierced believing that he'd be getting his semi-on whilst watching Tara get her nipple pierced. That didn't materialise. Giles refers to us (Me and him.) as 'The Last Romantics', as we both have got an excess of love in our hearts that is waiting to be rocked and produce a huge overspill. All we want to do is love.

Not many happenings took place hereafter, it was supposed to be football in the

afternoon; Giles had already backed out due to weather and not-bothered-ness, but I sat

around in my gear waiting to get picked-up. Leg (Leg is yet another staff member, though he

is the only Smiyul person who works here.) arrived at just before sunset to say that the rain

was too heavy and that he wouldn't be driving there for safety reasons. It felt like I'd wasted my morning, but when it's raining here, there's really not much to do. The body's natural

tendency during this weather, though, is to lounge about. (I.e. Sleep and hibernate.). Why is

this seen as taboo in society? We get such a kick out of looking forward to pleasures and

rushing to meet them that we can't slow down enough to enjoy them. We are a civilisation

that suffers from chronic disappointment. Just look at animals, the ones in balance with Nature, what do they do? Sleep and save energy for when the Sun returns to the sky. They

dream away the suns all they like!

We contently watched 3 football matches before Giles, Mark and a few others roused

their inactive limbs, feeling the need to go on a Pub Crawl. I declined, deciding to do as all

other species would do: Go to sleep.

Diary Deary 31. Quote of the silic: ''Human-e time input does not equal money. It equals a

deserved reward. What do they need that you can provide? Purpose. The most valuable

currency is the effect you have on others.''.

Is that someone knocking at the door?! Oh, how exciting! No, it's just rain landing on

the roof. Somehow, upon awaking I was best friends with the new girls in the hostel: Patty,

Laura and Henrietta. Also, thanks to Mark's inside knowledge, we knew that thissun was the

first sun of the season for Libra's café, which serves a traditional Verlish breakfast, omelettes, muesli; it's the homely place to go. It's run by Paul, who is the step-father of Leg. Paul is a Dowpathian chiller who's a keen rock climber, hence why he lives here in Snappy, with the

magnificent mountainous overhangs that Nature provides. Me, Giles and Mark, accompanied

by the girls, headed around the corner to experience the buzz of opening-sun. I had a ham and

cheese omelette with some orange juice. Before leaving, Paul, who recognised Mark from

previous visits, gave us his number and said that he'd take us out to some local viewpoints if

we so desired.

Right, what to do with the sun. I had to be in Snappy Town just after sunset, so let's

work around that. In the meantime, we drove down to the beach, parked-up, and then went

bargain hunting in the flea markets. I purchased some baggy hippy shorts; most travellers that

I've met have a pair of these Smiyul classics. Smiyul classics ay? Definitely Smiyul standard;

at the time of writing this, 3 suns later, they've ripped already! After this, we went for a stroll along the beach, playing with the monkeys, before heading back to see Henrietta off on her

way home to Dowpathia.

The drive to Snappy was a wet one; it was torrential downpour. Patty, on the back of

my bike, had her eyes closed the whole way because the rain was so intense. She purchased

me a drink upon arriving at Smile Bar, claiming that I deserved one for the excellent

squinting-whilst-driving that I'd just performed. We had a quick drink there before heading

to the night market. This market was a challenge; the challenge being that I couldn't decide

where to spend my money! I started off with a spicy Spunish salad (Spunish salad is a crab

and nut based dish with some fiery spice, blended using a mortar and pestle.). We took a

weird dietary turn and the next dish was some colourful grape-flavoured rice that melted in

your mouth. The most intriguing thing that I ate was a doughy delight. Imagine bread before

baking; it looked like this and had a potato-like filling. For my main meal I got a Fried

Smiyul cooked by the oldest lady on the mall. She cooked it in an unorthodox style, yet it

was the tastiest one that I've eaten to date. There was other interesting munch on offer, too,

but writing this after a hectic few suns, my mind is plainly blank.

We returned to the Smile Bar for the live music. On arrival, Mr Happy ushered me in

to the back and showed me his creation. I am now the proud owner of an authentic

Smiyul bong. Brilliant craftsmanship. I say that I'm the owner, but I'm going to donate it to

the Hostel Number 5 scrap-wall, so that it can be shared around by future residents. Also, I'm

highly unlikely to be allowed to transport this in any luggage of mine! Mister Cap, aka

Reggie Beats (Reggie Beats is the main artist at this bar.), sang with his usual sincerity, and judging from local reaction, he had sang a love song that was directed towards our table; they

were giddy that we had returned to their bar bearing women on our bikes. Awkward.

The drive back to Eu Will was just as challenging and perhaps even wetter. We made

it back safely, though. Patty is staying in the same hostel that Mark was in last silic. It has several mattresses downstairs in a cinema room, which is where we'd hoped to chill. Well,

potentially chill, if Patty didn't lock us all out! I was playing pool against Giles at the moment that this happened; the others inspected around the back and claimed that there was no way

in. Not in my tall books! I walked around to inspect, did a bit of free-hanging and climbing

and the next smaliey, I was on the balcony and in the building! Entering the dorm, I walked

past the owner of the hostel who was fast asleep! Tip-toe, tip-toe. I made it out of the room

and downstairs and then proceeded to surprise everyone with my success and opened the

door. We lay for the remainder of our awakened stundas watching TV in the mattress room.

Diary Deary 32. Speaking of falling in love (Giles.), these 2 hippie-chicks arrived thissun.

Man, these were the girls that I wanted to be meeting on my travels. They'd done such

interesting stuff. I didn't know these facts at the time, but here's a brief summary of their

journeys. Niamh is from Painert in Verland and has been travelling on and off for 6 sirculs or

so. She's a hallucinogenic drug advocate and a gravla. Niamh has organised several rallies

against various governmental ideas, fracking for example, and has just returned from

teaching children in Curtong (Curtong is a large continent in the centre of the World which is

abundant in natural resources yet these are heavily exported by various Western countries

such as Awedal.). _''Children are the seeds of our future. Plant love in their hearts and water_ _them with wisdom and life's lessons. When they are grown, give them space to grow.''_

Debbie is from Yunmea, a town that is 30 cases away from Dishwei. We were having a great

chat about how no one from the Hucurl region is out here experiencing this and how

everyone in the North West of Verland remains in some comfortable bubble with nothing to

aspire to. _''A true bubble is when something is overvalued and intensely believed to be the_ _be-all-and-end-all''_ She's only met 3 other people from Hucurl on her travels. Both of them are on a 'Global Sustainability' course at university. When The change comes, people like

this will be the ones to implement new policies. _''The fact that fruit trees aren't on every_ _street right now shows not only our reliance on money and purchasing but how stupid we are_

_for not planting them already. We have got caught up in the timeless theory of evolution,_

_thinking it has reached its pinnacle, when in fact it continues to enact itself around us, while_ _we sit here smug and stationary. The time will come though.''_ They travel the World as it assists them in their course, enabling them to see how other cultures maintain themselves

without the abundance of capital that is readily available in the West. The word, folks, is

permaculture. Go away and do the research.

After getting to know these 2 new lodgers, I made us all sit around a table and

download Vile Replies on to our electronic devices. Yes. What a game (Oh no! Here we

go! The Game. The aim of the game is to forget the game. If you know about the game, then

you're always playing it. This will be one of many times in the book that the game is

mentioned.). Virgins to it always enjoy it. The aim is to fill in the blank to a question with the funniest sentence that you have written on the cards that you're holding in your hand, with

the winning sentence being the funniest as judged by the question-master. Whoever has the

most successfully chosen cards when all questions have been asked, wins.

After a lazy, communal sun, Mark and I took Niamh and Debbie for a Cotojuice

curry, producing the expected and delightful tastebud orgasm. Following a few games of pool

across the road, me and Niamh headed back to the hostel for a read. My heart then skipped a

little beat, as she pulled up this app on her tablet about stars and constellations, linking

heavily into my recent astro-theology research. No way! She said that she stares into the

galaxy every night, looking for brightly coloured nebulae. _''Do you believe our destinies are_ _determined by the stars? No. Oh, I do. Really? How come? Life's a lot more fun when you're_

_not responsible for your actions.''_ Niamh is a very dreamy girl, so much so that she has extreme dreams almost every night which she makes a record of every morning. Which leads

me on to: Goodnight.

Diary Deary 33. I had a get up and go impulse thissun to go and do something amazing. After

a quick breakfast at the caff, me and Mark set off driving to the nearest inland National Park, Plai Pernumbutch, about 50 cases to the North. Due to the rain over the past silic, not only

was the park empty, but this was the perfect time to be there, as the waterfalls were flowing

abundantly fast. Did we get a tour guide? Did we get a tour guide?! No, but we had one

choose us. A canine. The smartest dog that I've ever encountered. He stayed with us for the

whole 6 stundas that we were there, taking us the whole way round. Whenever we stopped

off for a swim or walked slowly up a hill, there he was, sat around the corner, patiently

waiting. Hero. Supermarkets in the West are replacing their human staff with robotic self-

service machines. Here in Smiyulland, staff are substituted for trained dogs and human-es left

to do other, necessary tasks.

We began the hike, me in my sturdy, strapped sandals; Mark in his pretentious flip-

flops. No guesses which broke after a 10 smaliey, high-gradient hike. Mark spent the next 4

stundas barefoot. The waterfalls were typically picturesque. Being here was a realisation of

where in this wonderful World I currently am residing. Beautiful. We ascended for a stunda

or so attempting to find a supposed viewpoint; though the higher we got, the sweatier we got

and the more appealing to insects we got. The peak provided us with a greater look at our

surroundings. We were in the presence of the almighty Nature; I counted at least 7 different

species of tropical birds that I could see. _''Unplug those earphones. Disconnect yourselves_ _from the technological matrix. Bird song. The tune is provided and comes free and varied._

_Listen. They're teasing you. 'Look at me. I'm beautiful.'; we do not collectively think this_ _way.''_

We got back on to the trail and started our descent. Stop! You know that something's

lurking when Doggy Dawg halts the procession and puts his nose in the air. He has a sniff,

goes into the bushes and leaves us standing there. Snap! He's only gone and hunted out a

lizard! Good boy! He received several pats for his efforts. I didn't even know that was

possible. The dog kept trying to munch and crunch this lizard but the skin seemed

impenetrable to his teeth. Still, what a find! We continued onwards. Mark slipped several

times on this downhill part, the wet clay not giving good grip. Stop! Mark was inches away

from walking through a huge spider's web. We had a stare and a prod before leaving the scary

creature alone. These events brought the Nature and enjoyment of what I wanted to

experience in the National Park alive. We were in the jungle! And boy do I know it now, sat

here typing with a leg that is no longer a leg, simply a gigantic collection of insect bites.

We'd completed the main circuit in about 3 stundas. We paid the dog in strokes and

went to the secondary waterfall on site. Secondary turned to primary as the rainfall had

increased the ferocity of the water here and made it perfect to go swimming in. This was

possibly a unique sun to visit the park as, normally, the basin we swam in would have been

empty. It was idyllic, there was a vine rope which you could sit on right at the bottom of the

waterfall and swing safely. Mark's Eye-Am camera was used (However, as I am writing this

now, Mark has just returned from the Gobber Farm with Niamh and Debbie and has lost the

Eye-Am, maybe it was Petal the monkey, meaning that this footage has been lost.).

We chilled there until just before darkness. The park gates closed for the sun as we

drove off into the sunset, the pink cloudy sky making my grinning smile one inch wider.

Serious activity calls for serious food. Let's let Providence decide. And yeah, she chose well.

Reaching the town of Snappy and back in civilisation, I drove along the highway until

my eyes were drawn to a restaurant with hanging vines and other exotic plants. Got to go

here. When the front page of the menu explains all the food and spices on offer, you know

that the food's going to be seriously tasty. We took the tapas route and ordered some dishes

to share. Out came the tastiest dish that I've eaten so far, possibly in life. It was a Smiyul-

style crispy duck salad with nuts. We also shared an Inkgri curry, similar to Cotojuice and

originating from Illoivis, and some delicious fishcakes. The kitchen was open-planned and

several old Smiyul ladies could be seen preparing these yummy dishes.

We got back to the hostel, showered, scratched, stopped scratching, and then went for

another massage. Because of the time, nearly midnight, not many places were open, meaning

the place the we chose was off the main road. The massage wasn't as intense as the previous

one, more hand rubbing than muscle working, but it took place on a mattress and a pillow.

What an idea! It's so much more relaxing lying on a bed than one of the wooden benches

with the face holes. Although I could have blissfully fallen asleep there, we did enquire about the price of a bed, we drove home and slept. _''Wherever I lay my head, that's my home.''_

Diary Deary 34. I woke up this morning to the delightful tune of Niamh and her ukulele.

_''See and then Immerse. kNow your role in this Game. I'm a player to the Nth degree. Go_

_forth and set yourself free.''_ We'd already made plans to go to a secret swimming location

with staff member Rex, but I could have lay in my slumber chamber and kept on listening to her.

Finally, thissun was an adventure which Giles came on. He hopped on the back of

Rex's ped and me and Mark followed. The Sun changes everything. This place really is

paradise. Driving along empty country roads admiring the rocky bulges is a sight that I could

see again and again. I made a mental note of the directions required to get here as I want to

take other people to this cave myself! One sun later and I've forgotten already!

No, not more jungle hiking! We perspired heavily. Again, the wet clay made for a

tricky climb. Who knows how this spot was originally found, it's deep in the forest; a really

random cave-opening found amidst one of the isolated cliffs. Thankyou Rex for bringing us

to this tourist-free, monetary-free treasure. Basically, it was a huge cave with some sublime

stalagmite formations. Upon first glance, the swimming spot remained a mystery. We had to

climb up these stalagmites and at the top was where the large water basin was found. Again,

the rain was a double-edged sword as, though the hike was treacherous, the basin held more

water than Rex had ever seen. Each mini basin on the climb up, usually empty according to

Rex, was full and each resembled a Nature-made bath-tub. Hostel Number 5 used to organise

tours to here, but I can see why they got cancelled: Health and safety!

We sat in the basin for a stunda, basking in the vastness of the cave. Rex started his

shift at midsun, so we headed back down to the scooters. The drive to and fro whetted my

appetite for a final exploratory drive before I had to return my scoooter at sunset.

So, that's what me and Mark did. No route. No directions; only the road to lead us

around every corner. _''The right way to nowhere, I can never be lost''_ Heading 40 smalieys West through breathtaking scenery, our first stop was a screech on the breaks. We sped past

some kids playing in a river with a dam; we had to go and join in. What cheerful children. I

greeted them with an almighty splash before they proceeded to climb all over me, insisting

that I kept submerging myself in the water so that they could stand on my shoulders and fling

themselves off. You know where this one goes: The one fat, heavy kid amongst them wanted

to do it over and over again. My shoulders are red raw! Anyway, they enjoyed us wawas

('Wawas' is Smiyul for 'Foreigner'.) as much as we enjoyed them. As we were leaving,

shocked, but not surprised, the posse pulled-up next to us on scooter and kart, claiming their

mum had just asked them to nip to the shops!

The next destination on our journey was the end of the road on the map. The drive

there was rugged. The road had ended and the tracks became forged out of clay. I persevered

down. Oh, by the way, most of this trip my petrol was on empty so I was expecting to flutter

to a halt at any moment. There must be something beautifully remote that this road led to.

Yes it did: An empty beach, with only a few fishermen on the sand. We immediately

observed the migration of crabs across the surface. What a sight. Thousands of them, all

clamouring in to a nearby hole whenever the reverberation of footsteps came close. En garde!

This beach was a little slushy so we drove the scooters to a soft sanded beach that we could

see in the distance. Here, we observed the fishermen's daily catch and watched the sunset

whilst sitting on the solitary tree.

On the drive home, my gas fluttered out at a junction on the highway, right next to a

self-service fuel dock. Thankyou for your timings, Universe! It was empty! I hate you

Universe! I hopped on Mark's 'ped and we drove 10 smalieys to the nearest village so that I

could fill up a bottle with ~1 worth of fuel. Back in, oh no, wait, I nearly missed out

something then! On the ride home, we passed the largest night market that I've ever seen;

another brush with raw, authentic Smiyulland food. We walked around, not buying anything,

just observing the various stalls. We were overwhelmed by fruity choice so decided to

continue back to Eu Will without purchasing anything and go for tea with the others.

I returned my 'ped and then we met up with Niamh, Debbie, Giles and a new Awedali

lodger for some grub. Katie is on a gap-sircul after studying economics at university. She's a

quiet girl, even more so after the 4 of us absolutely tore in to Awedal's neo-capitalist

economy! Still, she was a nice girl. We walked to the reggae bar, RastaManVibration, my

home from home, and again, you know it, you always do, we watched the live band. Every

person that I sit with and watch this band comments on their amazing quirkiness and their

quality of sound.

Oh yeah, another sub story: Me and Giles left some fiya on the desk at the hostel the

other sun. George found it and said that he was waiting for someone to come forward and

claim it. We hadn't done that. So now, magically, they're selling fiya-cakes at reception for

~4 per slice! Definitely our fiya that went in there! I bought one regardless; the effects kicked in as I became sleepy at the reggae bar. Me and Giles walked, ambled, back to Number 5.

_''Dear Diary, thissun is a new sun. Everything is fresh again. Different. Yestersun never_

_happened. It seems like I've spent all sun trying to remind myself of that fact. Treat every_ _situation as though it has never been faced before. How would you deal with that? Now. Not_

_2 sirculs ago. Not 6 silics ago. Not yestersun. Now! This exact moment. Forever everlasting._

_Constant rebirth. How magnificently beautiful. And stop. Break. Start again. Dear Diary, this_ _feels strangely familiar Yet why? Is it because this samsara cycle has turned yestersun into a_ _still painting, invisible, never to be witnessed again? Or, and I think I might be on to_

_something here, is it because I do the same, repetitive shit sun in sun out, foolishly believing_ _that one sun I will wake up, lying in a mountain shadow with infinite utopia all around me?_

_Ah ha! Yes, that's exactly it. It's so clear now. They've tricked me. Tricked me into thinking_ _it's my actions that will make me happy, when in actual fact I already have 1000001 things to_ _be happy about. Go on. Glance forward now. Do it. How deeply complex is the structure_

_you're looking at? Now ask yourself, is that structure content just being, existing? Or is it_ _doing itself a huge injustice worrying what the next meal is or when the next paysun is? I_

_thought not. You then realise how duped you've been. How living in this exoskeleton_

_structure was never going to truly show you the wonders of the Universe. How only_

_detachment from the self would set him free. But wait, what about samsara?''_

__

Diary Deary 35. Uh oh. I woke-up this morning either realising or remembering (I

can't remember when it happened.) that my tablet screen has cracked. I spent the sun having

a mass type-up. What a write this has been. I've loved sitting here watching new guests walk

through the door and I look forward to getting to know their story and what brought them to this point in life and in Smiyulland.

I awoke this morning with plans of going to Trucka beach, but I got up way too late

for that. Mark took the girls to Gobber Farm, where he lost his Eye-Am, while me and Giles

had a catch-up sun here, with the only main thing of any note being that we paid to stay here

for another 4 suns. I also messaged Tommy, who we met playing football, asking him if he

could take us to go and watch Snappy FC tomorrow.

I spent the sun in a typical slumber style: Sitting up in the treehouse scouring UzVid

for entertaining and enlightening videos.

Diary Deary 36. We (Me and Giles.) woke up and went to have breakfast at Paul Libra's cafe

with Mark. My food and taste buds were in the capable hands of Paul. He blended us all a

fresh smoothie with banana and mango as the main components, and for food he brought out

of the kitchen a plain tasting, interestingly presented and wholly filling, egg dish. Basically it was layers of scrambled egg with 2 fried eggs on top and a few scattered herbs. It did have a

cool Smiyulland name but that eludes me at this moment of inscription. Paul was keen to take

us to some off-the-beaten-track spots that he'd found on his climbing expeditions. We agreed,

arranging to leave not long after midsun and return in the late-afternoon, so that we had time

to make our way into Snappy Town to watch football.

Rex came along for the first activity, also. Driving for 15 smalieys (Yes, I'd hired a

scooter again.), we arrived at Paul's friend's house, a local named 'Uncle Lot'. The

mysterious guru Uncle Lot was not home. Still, we sat in his garden and had a couple of

sunters between us. It was peaceful. Not too far from Eu Will, this little area is going to boom in the coming sirculs; wise, grand master Uncle Lot has spare land all around him! In the

back garden, Paul pointed out a plant which is popular with local policemen. Apparently they

come and help themselves to this. Chewing the leaves is supposed to produce a slightly

stronger effect than caffeine. I chomped some but can't say that I felt anything.

We left the house in the woods and drove down to the beach. It was quite rocky

initially, meaning that we were required to do a little bit of grappling, for which Paul gave us all some climbing gloves to prevent cuts. After following the cliff edge for 25 smalieys, we

reached a remote, virtually inaccessible beach that was only known to local rock climbers.

Paul produced some frozen coconut, served in bags, and we sat and sipped on them. We

found this amazing fresh water source which was coming directly out of a rock, meaning that

the origins lay deep within these vast cave structures, and splashed around in this for longer

than you'd have thought was possible before getting bored!

With time against us, we made our way back. Me, Giles and Mark zoomed off to

Snappy hoping to make it in time for kick-off. We arrived 15 smalieys late; we hadn't missed

much though as the standard was visibly appalling. _''Here's my analogy of life: It's as_

_though we've all got tickets to the World Cup final, the greatest show on Earth, yet we arrive_ _and then proceed to miss the match because we are stood with our backs turned and are_

_having an argument with the person behind us about which transport we used to get there!''_

This was Smiyulland Division 1 at it's worst. Snappy FC eventually lost the match 2-0 to

Beere Yu, with Snappy missing a penalty during the match too. During the game (The

Game!) Tommy was telling me about foreigners in Smiyul football: There are open trials

every sircul, with minimum wage for wawas being ~800 per riyz. He strongly recommended

that I attend. At half-time I purchased for myself the club's training vest, choosing not to get the first-team shirt as it had way too many sponsors on that I wasn't keen to advertise.

After the match, Giles got a lift home with Tommy in his car; he (Giles.) was keen to

get his drink on. Me and Mark, meanwhile, couldn't turn down the chance of another crispy

duck salad whilst in the vicinity. This time the 2 Rea Gra's ('Rea Gra' is Smiyul for 'Fat-

bellied'.) ordered a plate each as well as a Fried Smiyul. It was no fluke the first time; the

taste was delicious once again.

Returning to Hostel Number 5, Gilo had already sunk a few beverages and was keen

to go on the bar crawl. Also out tonight was Max who is from Alhalt, and Lucius from

Dowpathia, both middle-aged but with youth in their spirits and great people to be around.

They wanted to drink drink drink, party party party. That night they proved that anyone can

come here and blend in to this amazing, care-free travel crowd. Thankfully, I didn't drink

tonight. Down at MiddleWay, Giles spotted Tara chatting and laughing with a local Smiyul

guy. He had to be dragged away for his own safety. Yes, Giles had sex with Tara on the

beach 2 nights ago, but I have no idea where his jealously has stemmed from. There was

obviously no exclusivity as I guess Tara often does that with hostel guests, but Giles had

become alarmingly possessive. Depressingly possessive in fact; I could see in his eyes

several times he was lost in the cabin of his own mind. This had reminded me of something

Giles once told me, so I then recited it to him, hoping it would stir his mind into sensible

action: ''I got lost

within my own mind and found myself. Now we're travelling to get lost in the external World

and find myself there also.''. I was assisted in Giles's retention by a lovely chappy from

Lafqueik (Lafqueik is a small island in the middle of the vast North Givally Ocean, yet

classed as part of Awedal.) named Joey. He'd bonded with Giles more than he'd bonded with

me over the past few suns, mostly because they spent many stundas at the hostel bar together.

Yet here was a chance to see how great he was, as he had left the fun of his own night to

accompany Giles away from any danger. Giles was in a rage, attempting to fight any passer-

by. _''We're all messed up inside, it's just that some are more messed up than others.''_ We somehow sandwiched him between us on my moped and I gave them both a lift back to the

hostel.

Back down at MW, I couldn't believe my eyes. There, sat in front of where I was

standing, were 3 of the footballers who we'd seen playing on the pitch earlier in the sun. I,

being a little drunk, went over and vaguely remember laughing in the face of the guy who'd

missed the penalty. Thankfully, he took it well and we had a nice, short chat. It turns out that he's the brother of the Titmalian man who I'd played 5-a-side football with last silicend.

Unable to relocate Mark, I returned to Number 5 and went to sleep.

Diary Deary 37. Thissun was geared around being in optimal shape to go and play football at

sunset. I awoke at around midsun, just in time to see Joey off. He was heading to Tonareech

first before going to Moonie next riyz to perform in a play. I ordered my food for mid-

afternoon. I say ordered, as the lovely lady next door now delivers me the food seeing as I'm

a regular, daily customer. This allowed enough time for it to settle down and be broken down

into energy before I played.

Now, Giles's antics the previous evening had made things a little awkward with Tara,

especially in his eyes. _''In order to really forget an event has taken place, we must first_ _summon up the strength to remember it properly. The opposite of existence is insistence. If_ _one strives to exist then you'll be haunted forever.''_ Tara's contact was scarce thissun and by late-afternoon, no one had arrived to pick us up. Luckily I had the scooter and our combined

knowledge of the local roads enabled us to get there. Giles, a size 8 shoe, purchased some

football boots, size 6, upon arrival. Standard Giles. The rain started to fall, but oh, do I love running around and sweating in the rain! There's a freedom about it. Tara's presence was

again a detriment to Giles, despite explaining to him that it was all in his head and, because

he was so caring in the first place, people actually cared less than he assumed. He played in

one 15 smaliey match wearing his ~11 boots before flittering in and out, quite clearly in

distress. I knew 2 silics ago that I'd injured my thigh during the last match, probably because that that was the first strenuous exercise carried out on a large muscle since leaving Verland, and as soon as I kicked the first ball thissun, I felt it go again. Still, the kid in me kept running and running, not wanting to miss out.

After the allotted time was up, I walked off the pitch with a guy called Andy, aka

'1'mRuff'. This guy is a rapper from Alhalt, and claims that he can't walk around his

hometown city without bodyguards and guns! He moved to Snappy 'to become a king', and

has a hilarious video on UzVid which involves a ~10 note and a whole lot of blank paper.

Still, that's his dream and he's living it. He's one of the more eccentric people that I've met here. He's currently building a recording studio in Eu Will and is well known in the area, so I hoped to have a smoke with him before we left town. I mentioned that I

bought a space cake from the hostel yeah? Well, it turns out that this guy was the baker!

Before knowing this, I'd already let slip that I thought that they were weak in content. His

reply was that he didn't want people to overdose by eating too many of them. A nice gentle,

mellow effect was what he was after. I purchased some of his homegrown taboosh, which

was distinctly more colourful than others that I've bought before, and then me and Giles

commenced the 20 smaliey drive home.

This evening was another quite one; a chill downstairs with Niamh and Debbie having

some philosophical chats. Here are a couple of the ideas to come out of these chats, put into

my own, poetic words: ''Yo man, I got a pay rise thissun at work. Yeah, but what about the

guy who didn't get a pay rise? You can't just think about yourself. That's where we've all

gone wrong. I say 'We've all' but there's actually a lot of unknown people out there willing

and ready to implement change in an instant. They just need a leader, well, more of a speaker,

with a convincing message to show everyone the way of how to be a believer. I believe in

you. You believe in me. Take a step back and stop being the receiver. Give give give. Better

than any other drug. Making other people truly happy is such a free and meaningful may to live live live. We have been played off against each other, leading independent lives. Let's

collaborate and force it out, exposing the truth is the only way we can forgive forgive

forgive.''; ''We must maintain our childlike curiosity, consciously look for the meaning

within and put an end to this monstrous monstrosity. Explore every caveat of our vast empire

named mind, go deep within this belly of this beast and reflect on what you find. But, but I

don't have time to do this because I have to work. The time is now, act before it goes too far.

All my life I have sense a change is coming, do not be ignorant, for it will affect you, no

matter who you are.''.

Diary Deary 38. Quote of the Silic: ''Planting evidence not grass: Where do I start with this

one? Firstly, human-es are now guilty until proven innocent. But this points to my thoughts

on prisons and the mental make-up of offenders. The hard planted evidence refers to the

prison itself, how it's something concrete and tangible in which the result can be seen.

Planting grass, now, what would that do? The compassionate attention and desire to nurture

shown to an offender by actually confronting and dealing with the reason for their action;

water these people with insightful knowledge and let them grow into something new.''.

Giles has had enough heartbreak; my screen has suffered a break; we decided to leave

in 3 suns' time. The countdown began with an emotional bed change as a family of 10 people

from Illoivis had rented out a whole dorm to themselves. Emotions come and go, high and

low; the low quickly becoming a high as me, Giles and Mark were now in a 12 person dorm

with the other 9 occupants being girls. Giles was whining about the possibility of going back

to Ouchwil, listing a whole host of reasons as to why not to return. However, it seemed

obvious to me that TechnoCityOuchwil was the best and cheapest place to get a new screen.

We had to head North at some point anyway to reach Beere Yu for a festival that we wanted

to attend. Having let Niamh and Debbie attempt, and not be convincing, to ride my moped

yestersun, they climbed on to the back of mine and Rex's, as Rex directed us to a

mountainous hike that I'd been told to go on by Luke, who is a university lecturer and

originally from Olfort in North East Verland, but now lives in Hithi (Hithi is the capital city of Skuhob, which is located not too far away from Smiyulland in a North Easterly direction.),

and visits Eu Will whenever it isn't term-time.

Side story here, but there is a definite business cabal (Group/Relationship.)

between any wawas in this area. It's an intricate circle that seems to keep expanding the more

I get to know people and they all help each other out with business promotions and other

collective ventures.

Anyway, back to the present: We were driving to Goodshi Mountain in order to get

the supposed best views in the area. Rex has been once before but he didn't take the correct

path to the top and ended up at a not-so-good viewpoint; Luke had warned me not to let this

happen again. It was a 30 smaliey drive and we arrived in sunny, high spirits. The ascent was

not too bad, with just a few, challenging, steep gradients. Before heading higher towards the

peak, we turned off the designated track, following a sign which read 'Waterfall, nothing to

see.'. Whoever wrote this sign must be mad! We discovered a bat cave with a fresh, dripping-

out-the-rocks water source. True, the waterfall was more of a trickling shower, which we did use, but the low ceiling cave was a sight worth seeing. Continuing upwards and reaching a

levelled plateau, it seemed like we'd reached the top of the rock formation; I expected it to

narrow and become a peak, but it just kept on expanding and climbing towards the clouds.

Following the marked footpath for another 25 smalieys, we eventually reached the summit.

This was the best view that I've seen in Smiyulland, something that resembled an ancient land

from a bygone era. I wish I could show you a picture. Never mind show, I wish I could have

taken a picture of my own. Darn tablet! ' _'If I stand on top of this mountain, I am greater than_ _this mountain.''_ The viewpoint was not a bench or a decking area, it was the rock itself, and it had been basking in the Sun all sun. Here we lay, having a free, sensual, hot-stone massage,

looking down on Eu Will and it's surroundings. In the distance, we saw a thunderstorm

approaching. Typically fascinated and transfixed, we marvelled at the lightning bolts. This

was foolish of us, though, as it was heading straight towards us and we had a 2 stunda walk to

get back down to the bottom! On the walk up, Niamh predicted that the path would turn in to

a river when it rained; this prediction was manifested. The heavens opened just as we left the

rocks, and within smalieys, sure enough we were ankle deep in a fast-flowing river. Hiking

up, I thought that I was superman with fast-repairing muscle fibres, as I couldn't feel any pain in my thigh. I then remembered that calves are used to ascend and thighs used to descend. My

leg hurt every step that I took, with the others having to keep stopping and waiting for me.

Also, wearing sandals was useless in this terrain. The velcro straps kept on loosening because

of the water and my feet uncomfortably rubbed against the padding, resulting in 4 cuts on my

left foot. Once the body and clothes are wet, they're wet, and you can accept it and then

power on with the image of home in your mind. No one spoke for most of the descent, we

just marvelled at the unforgiving rainfall. As the choir chorus of the clouds increased in

decibels, I witnessed a virgin sight with my eyes: The sky got so ferocious that it unleashed a bright pink lightning flash. Though scary, it was breath-taking to see.

We made it down to the car-park safely, passing 2 Liftoup people on the way. We

then waited in the car park for them to appear so that we knew they that they, too, were safely back down, before commencing the drive back to Number 5. My lips turned blue on this ride.

Luckily, Debbie on the back was hugging me like a penguin, as I swayed side-to-side, so that

we shared in body heat. _''Movement overcomes cold. Stillness overcomes heat. Stillness and_

_tranquillity set things in order in the Universe.''_

__

I had a shower as soon as we returned to Number 5, but because we all jumped in

at the same time, the hot water supply was limited. Dry clothes were what I needed.

We went for a Cotojuice curry that evening, before heading to check out a little street

market that had been set up. Here, me and Niamh were joined by Wizzy, a true, nomad

traveller from Owdoe. We bonded over our dislike for alcohol, with Wiz being surprised that

me, a man from Verland, was not wholly obsessed with alcohol! Let's just say that Verlish

people have a global reputation and stereotype for not being able to handle their drink and

going too far sometimes. Despite the vibe not being too strong between me and Wiz, we had

a mutual understanding and he was certainly one of the most experienced travellers out here

and someone from whom there was plenty to learn and respect. I was lucky enough to find

some hemp (Hemp is an extract of taboosh plants.) seeds being sold on this market, so I duly

purchased a bag of those, intending to add them to whatever meal that I ate. Hemp seeds

contain the perfect balance of essential amino acids for sustaining good health. In addition, hemp seed oil contains necessary fatty acids, also known as good fats. They contain high

amounts of protein, which helps in strengthening the immune system, thereby, reducing the

instances of diseases, besides helping in excreting toxins from the body. There is no other

food substance which contains such high quantities of essential fatty acids found in hemp

seeds, higher than even flaxseed and other nut or seed oil as well as containing high amounts

of vitamin E and trace minerals. It has a balanced ratio of omega 3 to 6 fats at around a 3:1

ratio.

With nothing else catching my eye, I returned to the hostel, leaving Niamh and Wizzy

to talk the night away.

Diary Deary 39. I didn't even have a shower thissun! Seeing as we had an emotional farewell

to deal with in 2 suns' time, I felt the need to do a bit of planning for Ouchwil and beyond. I also wanted to contact 1'mRuff to see if he was free for a chill before we left. I struggled to track him down, however, as he is an elusive character confined to the shadows.

With not much going on during the suntime, I stayed in bed until the middle of the

afternoon, and then in the evening walked across the road to play some pool at the bar.

Providence surfaced once again here, as in through the door walked 1'mRuff, fresh from

'Serving his customers', as he says. I finally had a chance to get to know the guy and ask a

little more about his recording studio and other past and present ventures. What interested me

most was why he'd decided to come here to Eu Will, despite seeming to be quite a famous

and successful rapper back in Althalt; he answer left me speechless: ''If the Dao, the way, is

being followed in the World, then show yourself. If it is not, then retire in seclusion. In a state that has the way, to be poor and of low status is a reason for you to be ashamed, in a state that does not follow the way, to be rich and famous is equally a cause for being ashamed of

yourself.''. I was not expecting such insightfully true words to come out of his mouth; I was

pleasantly surprised by his sincerity.

Seeing as it was Debbie's last night and Niamh had already gone to read in bed, she

kept pestering for us to accompany her to MiddleWay. Now, I'd just had a couple of sunters

with 1'mRuff so I was slightly spaced out, but still, me and Mark agreed anyway; also

agreeing on Giles to return home and stay away so as he didn't do himself or others any

harm! I wish I hadn't bothered going down. It was dead and being there as a gravla

reminisced of an awful night in the staleness that is Dishwei town centre at a silicend. The

only rowdy crowd out partying was Hostel Number 5's Pub Crawl! I stared in to oblivion for

a stunda too long, which became a stark realisation that we had overstayed in Eu Will and

yes, it was time to move on. Tommorow beacons.

Diary Deary 40. Thissun was our last full sun. I awoke early to say goodbye to Niamh and

Debbie who were heading on to Whukarez.

Now, I'm not sure whether I included this earlier on, but Mark, after our trip to the

National Park last silic, got the same infection that he's already had but in his right foot this time! He had to have another stint on the drip while they scraped and cleaned his wound. My

cuts caused by the wet sandals were looking a similar way and had encouraged my foot to

swell. Having noticed this early though, I sanitised them and bandaged them myself. I'm a

great believer that this miraculous creation which is our body was created in a self-healing

way which does not require it to be pumped full of expensive drugs. I took the decision not to

drink alcohol on our last night-out in order to maintain my blood viscosity.

Giles, meanwhile, had made the lovely gesture of purchasing a painting worth ~30 of

the Maytla for the hostel scrap-wall, possibly being the most pleasant piece to be hung up on

there, complimenting the stained knickers and bull horns. Mark hasn't booked a bed for

tonight and they were fully booked when he attempted to do so. However, now being

confident and long-standing residents, I said that he could sleep in the treehouse using my

blanket as a cover; I'd use my silk sleeping-liner.

I returned to the smoothie shack for a final delicious slurp accompanied with the tasty

chicken and ginger dish. That's all there is to be said on that one!

With the night moving on, and me and Mark abstaining from alcohol, we went down

to the reggae bar to say goodbye to the band and our friends. We also bumped into some

Bacits from our hostel; we had a good conversation with them, too. I love hearing people's

stories. I don't speak much myself, sometimes, but boy do I listen well. Giles appeared at the

reggae bar, eyes wide and drunk. Talk was of Tara and how there was a big secret that he

could reveal tomorrow; everyone had already guessed that he'd had sex with her! Giles was

with Yogi, a Unonch person, who, after a quick get-to-know-each-other chat, turns out to be

an astronaut! I spent the next 10 smalieys questioning him about his intriguing work, asking

him to provide an answer on how mankind can improve, based on his experiences in, and

sightings from, space. His answer was: ''We need to share the World. Let like-minded people

live together and have a share in the land of the World. Technology and communication can

achieve this. Looking at the World from space, I can see no borders or territory. We think as

people and countries, not as a species.''.

After the reggae bar and with Giles plastered and unaware, we squeezed 4 people on

to a moped and went down to MiddleWay. MW has become self-explanatory by now, full of

seedy revellers, so I only attended for a stunda or so before heading back up the main road

and into my bed.

Diary Deary 41. This is like leaving home all over again! I don't want to go, I'm comfy here.

I'm joking, of course. I'm keen to depart and travel some more; Giles is stuck in his usual

indecisiveness. One smaliey it's love, the next it's 'run quick'.

After waking up, I had a nice shower and slowly packed away my belongings. We'd

paid ~12 each for a bus to collect us at around-about midsun and take us on a 12 stunda trip

to Ouchwil. The farewell breakfast ceremony took place at Libra's. After this, we sat and

awaited our fate. Mark is returning to Gobber Farm thissun to look for his Eye-Am camera.

Apparently Niamh kicked it out his hand and she has offered him her camera in return as a

to cross a border, though he promised us that he'll make the journey up to Ouchwil soon.

Tara came to see us off, which was slightly awkward. I'm positive too that, last night, she

was touching Mark up in front of Gilo, though he didn't show any signs of noticing this.

The minibus arrived 15 smalieys late. We boarded, slowly. You think that'd be the

end of the entertainment, you know, a long, boring bus journey. But no, not with Giles. The

driver instructed us to read his rules: 1) Do not send noise to others; 2) No feet on seat. Rule 1 we violated instantly apparently. ' _'The greatest crimes in the World are not committed by_ _people breaking the rules but by people following the rules. It's people who follow orders_

_that drop and massacre villages. The slavery was legal and so too was segregation, don't use_ _the state or others as a metric for ethics.''_ Rule 2 was a funny one. Stopping for a cigarette, the driver noticed Giles with his feet, albeit bare-footed and not wearing flip-flops, on the

seat. Clearly Giles's mind had wandered and his legs acted of their own accord, it was

certainly nothing intentional. The driver erupted in Smiyul-speech, threatening to kick him

off the bus. When we reached the regional depot 30 smalieys later, I had to go over and

calmly intervene and translate Giles's regional English. _''And breathe. And breathe._

_Calmness is a clear mind. A clear mind is the correct, desired reply. A correct, desired reply_ _is infinite potential. Speaking gets you what you want, so it's best to make sure you're steady_ _in your head so as you can cognitively process what it is you actually want to say, as opposed_ _to the nervous gibberish your voice box decides to utter. In an age of technology, of 140_

_characters on Whisla (Whisla is a social-media site that is similar to ClockOn.), being able to_ _effectively verbally communicate is still the trump card. Words prepare speeches, but it's the_ _persuasive, sometimes passionate, delivery of them that grabs people's attention. With all the_ _information our minds have to process, from adverts to music to news, are the thought we_

_think and therefore the words we speak, our own? Actions are a much better barometer of_

_judgement. Let's do both! Let's speact!''_

__

A little sub-story here: Giles attempted to order a pancake in a restaurant last silic by

saying 'Yo, mate, can I get this pancake here!', a sentence obviously not understood by the

bemused Smiyul man!

Yeah, so, this taxi driver was bizarrely threatening to call in the local police, all over

feet on a seat! I believe that he was potentially trying to intimidate Giles into handing over

some cash. The matter resolved, though, as I made it clear that he could do no more than

apologise. We waited at the depot, which also doubled up as a restaurant, for a stunda. I ate

my last southern-style Fried Smiyul. The coach arrived and we were on our way. 2 stundas

into the journey we stopped off at an extremely eclectic service station! It was basically a

night market with lots of vibrant, colourful, hanging lights and plenty of delicious delicacies to choose from. I diligently selected some tasty looking cookies.

Back on the road. I don't believe thatI slept on the bus, I maybe drifted in and out a

couple of times, instead occupying myself with writing this, and stopping to read whenever

my creative mind had dried up.

We arrived in Ouchwil at just before sunrise and got a taxi to our hostel. The first

thing that struck me was the hostel's promotion of global travel. Never have I been in a

building with so many varieties of World maps: From bloc art, to beers produced in each country, to a map dating back over 100 sirculs, to a map of the World at night-time. There

were at least 30 maps in here! We checked in to Hostel Number 6 and went to sleep in our

large dorm.

Diary Deary 42. Hey. Or maybe not so cheery. Going to take money out of my bag this

morning proved to be impossible, I'd had ~200 stolen! Luckily, it was just cash and no cards.

Giles did an inventory check, too: His credit card has been stolen. This links into a story that I don't think that I've mentioned yet: Robert, Jess and Rex all had their credit cards stolen,

too, in Eu Will, with excessive amounts being spent on jewellery. Going to the police station,

apparently the police-chief, upon watching CCTV and identifying the culprit, offered Rob

various options, such as a beating for the accused, a full refund or a full refund after which

Rob and the police-chief got to spilt and keep the purchased items! Corruption much? Me and

Giles instantly speculated that we'd lost our stock in similar circumstances at Hostel Number

5, thinking it to be one of the cleaners. With it still being the middle of the night in Verland due to the time difference, call centres were unlikely to be open and Giles would have to wait

before contacting his bank.

We quickly put our issues to one side and focused on present needs. We were in

Ouchwil to get my tablet fixed, so we headed to MOW mall in the hope of replacing my

cracked screen. On our way there, we were befriend by a jubilant and cheerful taxi driver,

named Wine, who was clearly bored and therefore offered to take us for a ride around the city

for a stunda, charging us only ~1! You can't turn that down can you?! He took us to an inner-

city park which was home to several exotic creatures, which Wine attempted to provide

details of. I enjoyed chatting to him as I could sense that he was keen to practise his Verlish language skills. ''How do you cope here, working in such a vast and expansive city, where no

one seems to have the time to breathe?!'' I asked him. ''When you realize that no one really

knows what they are doing and that everyone is doing the best they can according to their

own level of consciousness, life gets a lot easier.'' was his Maytlist-influenced response. He

then took us to a tailor-shop, where it became clear that this is where he could earn some

commission; however, I have no need for a fitted suit at this moment in time! We left the

store briskly and requested that he drop us off at the mall, which he did.

This place was massive! It had 7 floors, which were endless in either direction with

thousands of stalls and shops. We went up to the 'International Food' section and devoured a

chicken curry, which was covered in a traditional Skuhobese sauce. The dish was

accompanied with green tea. After this, we went down on to the middle floor of the building

which was home to an eye watering number of phone repair shops, each offering the same

basic service! Walking down the aisles, however, it was apparent that no one stocked Whaleg

(Whaleg is the company who manufactured my tablet.) tablets! I was amazed! After

enquiring, we were directed to a Whaleg supply-store on the floor below. Here, the assistant

provided me with a phone number for the repair centre, but I kindly asked him to do it on my

behalf as my Smiyul is a little rusty. After being on the phone for 20 smalieys, he proceeded

to claim that my tablet cannot be repaired here in Smiyulland and that it must be done so in

the country of purchase. I'm not having that; Ouchwil, the gigantic city that it is, must have

somewhere capable of such a task! Reluctantly accepting his words, we left. I directed myself

and Giles on an extended walk home, taking in sights never seen before by my eyes.

Obviously, Mr Lazy complained.

Returning to the hostel, Giles contacted his mum immediately and we learned that

she'd had a message through saying that ~500 had been spent that morning, which seemed

erratic judging on the past transactions of the card. He then commenced the arduous task of

contacting the fraud squad. I, meanwhile, researched other malls nearby and also Whaleg

stores; I intend to head there tomorrow. I also used the ICU application on the computer to

speak my good friend Mikey C who was evidently a little lonely currently by his wee self in

Kidriv, where he's just started university. I offered to him the definition of 'Panpsychism',

hoping that this would help: ''Consciousness, mind or soul is a universal feature of all things, and the primordial feature from which all others are derived. One mind in a World of

minds.''. We had a good extended talk; he was very emotional and grateful for the present

that I'd sent him in the post.

Also, Mark had messaged me stating his intentions to travel North to Ouchwil over

the silicend. Listening in to Giles' attempt to effectively communicate with the fraud squad

down the phone, I learned that the supermarket spend had in fact taken place on the outskirts

of Ouchwil and we now believe that the card and money were stolen potentially when we

stopped at the service station. This makes a mockery of my initial assumption that the service

station was a great one! It's now quite evidently obvious that it is a hub where bus drivers

and locals are in collusion with one another, sending young kids on to the parked-up coaches

to ransack bags while passengers are unsuspectingly purchasing some food. 4 riyzs later at

the time of editing this book, I've also just found out that my card details were also copied on that night, yet they'd reserved spending it until just yestersun! The call-centre employee

claimed that Giles will receive a full refund, contradicting the information that Rob and Jess

received, as they had to provide a crime reference number in order for their claim to be

processed. I've suggested to Giles that he goes to the police station tomorrow whilst I'm

traipsing around Ouchwil looking for places to get my tablet fixed!

The update on my foot is that all swelling has gone down and I'm hoping for full

recovery when I awake in the morning. This has actually reminded me of another story from

thissun. A past guest at Hostel Number 5, who stayed there while we were also staying there,

Hugo from Browkland, wrote on Number 5's ClockOn page thissun saying that Giles,

although he didn't know it was Giles, has ruined his holisun. One night on a messy bar crawl,

the one where I passed out and Giles had blood on his t-shirt, Giles apparently smashed a

glass table, as previously mentioned. A shard of glass got in to Hugo's foot and he's been on

recovery antibiotics ever since. Thinking that he was healed and heading onto his next

destination, Hugo once again got infected and has had to return to Ouchwil for further

medication. He's demanded that Giles contact him and apologise.

I'm finally up-to-date once again with my writing. We've just been for a quick beer to

celebrate Giles's monetary relief and now I'm hitting the hay. Goodnight friend.

Diary Deary 43. Right, I'm a little drunk right now but I'm going to give the writing a go so that's it's out of the way. Last night, I woke up mid-sleep with a sweating fever and it took me a while to get back to sleep. I believe this was the final biological expulsion of my foot

infection as thissun all swelling has gone and the scabs are no longer sore. Therefore, I awoke later in the sun than I had intended to. Still, I got ready and headed out to Eyar Woriby Mall, one that is a lot more upmarket the MOW. Giles remained at the hostel, intending to go to the

police station.

Reaching my destination after 30 smalieys of walking, I saw finally what I had been

expecting from Ouchwil: Huge electronic screens with constant advertisements and lots of

people dashing around this high-ceilinged, expensive and Westernised shopping centre, with

every other person taking a selfie! _''In reality, the source of all these differences is that the_ _natural human-e lives within theirself, while social human lives constantly outside theirself,_ _and only knows how to live in the opinion of others, so that he seems to receive the_

_consciousness of his own existence merely from the judgement of others concerning him.''_

Getting lost in this complex, fashionably-designed outlet, I eventually reached Building 3 and

located the Whaleg store. Here, yes, they claimed that a repair was possible. The first

outrageous thing that I was told was that it would take 3 silics to fix! Secondly, the price

quoted to me was ~264.93. This random number led me to believe that the store clerk had

just button-bashed and was trying to get me out of his sight. Before leaving, I checked in a

rival manufacturer's store, and saw that it was possible to buy a brand new tablet, albeit a

different make, for ~140! The figure that I'd been quoted seemed expensive. Still, it needs

fixing so I was willing to listen. Telling me that the repair centre was only open silicsuns, I was given the address and told to make my own way there. Looking at the map, it's very far

away and not close to any railway lines! My tablet still functions fine, it's just annoying

having to rotate it whenever the screen isn't receptive, plus some applications are not able to be used due to the positing of the cracks. 1st-World problems, ay? Seeing as it's a new model,

I think I'm going to persevere for the moment and wait until I'm back here next and

hopefully, then, parts will be more in abundance.

I walked around aimlessly for the next 45 smalieys, in awe at the vast number of

people around me. In the middle of the mall, next to a live music stage, was a sculpture of

new apartment builds for young couples to go and select one to purchase. There's money to

be made however and wherever in Ouchwil! On the walk back to the hostel I purchased some

freshly squeezed orange juice. _''Fruit only diet: why? Just look inside; fruit is full of_

_creativity and expression, all coming from a single seed.''_ Returning to the hostel, I learned that Giles had remained in the building all sun, as the receptionist was unable to accompany

him to the police station and translate.

Lounging around for a while and looking at what to do in the evening, we eventually

headed out to a rooftop bar. After a brisk 15 smaliey walk, we arrived, only to be declined

entry as Giles was wearing flip-flops! Reading online, it was evident that it was a posh bar,

and I don't know why he didn't wear his trainers! Then again, those bulky things looked just

as bad from a style point-of-view. We headed back to the hostel for a footwear swap. The

building was unfathomably high, 64 floors to be precise! We stepped in to the high-speed

elevator and up we went! Wow! What an extraordinary 360 degree, panoramic view of night-

time Ouchwil. Bright, towering skyscrapers in every direction. Flashing lights. Ouchwil

certainly looked much better from above! On the ground, one feels like an exhausted ant that is constantly lost and constantly covered in exhaust fumes! _''Does universal consciousness_

_operate at the same timeframe as human-es? A tree grows slowly, carefully choosing the best_ _route to the top, living a long life. Humans rush about, never stopping. Who says we should_ _age so quickly? What is a sircul to a tree? We're currently operating a low, reckless level of_ _consciousness, fast burning. Just like our phone's operating systems, we need updating.''_ Up here though, it was magnificent and spacious. Ordering the only drink that we felt we could, a

'Headachetini' (A Headachetini consists of blended fruit with whiskey.) we gazed out into

the vastness of this large, expansive city. Upon receiving the bill, we were flabbergasted at

the price of ~28, virtually unheard of elsewhere we've been. Still, the view alone was

priceless, as was the jazz band expertly accompanying it. Giles foolishly downed his drink

and wanted to leave quick-time; I savoured mine and insisted that we stayed longer as the

gaze out was an eternal sight to behold.

30 smalieys later, I'd supped up and we left. It had been nice looking down on the

hectic traffic and not be involved in the horrible task of road-crossing but we were back on

ground level now and back playing the 'Avoidance of Death' game (The Game!)! Keen to

experience more of Ouchwil at night, Giles looked online for a club that we could go to

which would suit our tech and house music taste. One he found, named Rock, was on the

main club strip, Queenville Street. This was to be our destination.

On our walk there, we encountered a vast street market which also doubled up

as/backed on to, the red-light district, which is where women can be bought to have sex with.

Now, maybe I should insert a quote here about how immoral this is, but in the current

society, women have to make a decision on how best to make their money. Having been in

Smiyulland for just over one riyz now, I have noticed how this country is more gender-equal

than the West, with women having a key say in the actions of men. Therefore, choosing a

career as an escort-girl is a genuine career option, and one that I feel empowers women as

opposed to degrading them. Every 10 cufayers someone was offering us front row seats to a

graphic sex show! Walking around, however, it is sad to see how these degrading shows have

been accepted as 'part of their culture' and a quick way to make some money. _''We seem to_

_have forgotten that we are fellow human-e beings, fellow brothers and sisters, and that the_ _preservation of another person's dignity is actually essential to our own well-being.''_ This market sold anything imaginable and some really quirky t-shirts. As we were on our way to a

nightclub, nothing was purchased, but when Sunrise comes around, I look forward to

purchasing some eccentric presents from here.

Reaching QVS, Rock was the first club on the strip. I suggested that we walk down

the road to inspect the other clubs before going in here. Giles noticed a bar that served his

favourite beer, Wumigrass, and with live music on show, we took a seat. Wumigrass was a

damn good beer as it was sweet and flavoursome; it's other niche being that it was served in

huge glasses of 0.6 litres, about a pint and a half. Even my big hands struggled to get a firm

grip on the jug! Again, the live music didn't disappoint, 'What's The Matter With You?' was

standardly bellowed out with beautiful aplomb. We could have left without paying but after

having my money stolen, I wanted to abide with the rules of karma. Jug empty, we went to

Rock. Uh oh! ID required! Smiyulland being Smiyulland and with everyone keen to make

money regardless, this never entered my head; it was the first time that I've had it requested.

Ah well, it wasn't meant to be, I didn't have my passport on me. The music definitely wasn't techno anyway, but further down there was a groovy DJ with a clearly unappreciative crowd

and an empty dance-floor dropping some sick tunes, but we missed out on him too. Not to be

deterred, we had a 2 smaliey skank-session on the pavement before we got in a taxi. Mr

Taximan then persuaded us to go to another club where no ID is required. Bombshell: Giles

miraculously remembers that he'd actually read online that you had to bring ID with you to

get into any club on QVS, but he didn't register it in his mind or mention it, as he weirdly

thought it was stating that native Smiyul people only had to show ID and not us wawas! What

a doosh! We arrived at this recommended club. What can I say?! I think the statement 'It's

nice to know bad clubs are elsewhere in the World apart from just in Dishwei' sums it up

perfectly, especially to anyone reading this that comes from Dishwei! Luckily, we got a free

beer with the ~6 entry fee that we'd paid. We collected this from the bar, absorbed the

atmosphere briefly and then left after 10 smalieys with bottle in hand, and ears ringing from

poor, popular chart tunes.

The final story of thissun is of a man on a midnight charity run who'd painted himself

white and then dressed up as a superhero! It was hilarious as he jogged next to our taxi, it's

not something that you expect to see! That's that. Lying in bed ready to get some zzzzzs.

Diary Deary 44. Me and Giles awoke thissun with the hopeful intentions of hiring some

bicycles and having a ride around Ouchwil. _''A lot can be learned from cycling often. A_

_strong, determined mind-set is forged when you're 50 cases away from home and it's just_

_your leg power that's going to get you home. Also, receiving a puncture is not ideal, but bad_ _things do happen from time to time, and it's how you react to them and feel about them that is_ _important. Stay positive. Finally, where better to be alone than in the countryside, with the_ _wind in your hair. Here, thoughts are entertained about the way that life should be enjoyed –_

_from the very start to the very end.''_

This first turned in to a walk around the park that Wine had showed us the other sun;

we'd learned that to hire a bike you require a bike rental card and that the head-office was not too far from the park. We were having no luck with the bikes, and were walking around and

feeling drained in the midsun heat. Probably the most eventful thing was passing a begging

woman whose saggy face went below her saggy breasts! Not a pretty sight, yet an example of

how society abandons those who don't blend in. With Giles submitting early as usual, we

flagged down a taxi and headed back to the hostel. Typically, the first bike depot that we

passed in the taxi on the way back to the hostel had a staff member sat there who could issue

the cards that we required. Returning to the Number 6, I put on my foot gloves (My foot

gloves are shoes that have individual sections for each toe.) and went running for 20 smalieys

to said bike station. For ~6.40, I am now able to hire a bike in Ouchwil for the sircul, with

every first 20 smalieys being free and then 50 freeyz per stunda after that. I went for a little ride around the city, quickly realising that I was too big for my bike; I was devastated

whenever someone overtook me on a faster bike as I did not have the capability to chase after

them on these basic models! _''Cycling maintains and also enhances man's state of Nature._

_Cars don't. It's a man-made form of evolution.''_

In the evening, me, Giles and Danny (Danny comes from Alhalt and we met him at

the hostel.) went to a Gutenish (Gutenish being someone who is from Gutendow.) bar to

watch some football and also to order some homely food, something that Giles desired.

_''There is no greater sin than desire, no greater misfortune than wanting something for_

_oneself. Therefore he who knows that enough is enough will always have enough.''_ End of sun.

Diary Deary 45. This sun will live long in the memory. Where to start?! Well, like most, it

started in bed. We'd arranged to meet Niamh, Debbie and Mark in the evening. We therefore

had a lounge-about sun, knowing that tonight was going to be a big one.

So, darkness comes. We met the girls outside a fast-food restaurant on Moo Nige

Road. This was Mark's designated meeting point, with sunset being his designated time. We

waited for him to show up until we sensed definitively that he had been delayed, eventually

going off to get some food at a restaurant on the adjacent street. He arrived half a stunda

later. After my main meal, which was an Inkgri curry, guess what I had for dessert?! A

crunchy, salty, tasty, nutritional worm! There are a few food vendors selling many varieties

of insects around here. I tried one out of curiosity, and then the lady was trying to make me

buy a bag full! No, thankyou.

Back on Moo Nige, we perched our bottoms at a bar and purchased a tower (A tower

consists of 1.5 litres.) of beer to share between us. Let the messiness begin. The tower of beer lessened our control and we were soon purchasing several laughing-gas balloons, something

that I've never tried before; they sent me into another dimension! We were all soon up on our

feet and dancing on the street. 2 things had happened in-between. First, we had acquired a

drunken Awedali guy who nearly brought the roof down by falling over on to its frame; we

felt it our duty to incorporate him into our company. Secondly, I'd reinflated 2 balloons and

shoved them up my t-shirt. A pair of boobs for the night, I had. I was calling it 'Bovva

Awareness Night'. The point being was that I was getting laughed and stared at, when in fact,

it's totally wrong to laugh at Bovvas, they are who they are. Several people throughout the

night definitely believed that they were 'real' boobs and many people wanted to touch them. I

even got into a deep conversation with a Bovva about them. I told her they cost me ~200 and

she was impressed at the price, saying that she'd paid ~400! She then lifted up her top and

put my hand on hers, being pleased at how good a job the doctor had done! I then lifted my

top and the truth was revealed. Still, for a good 7 stundas I had fake boobs and it brought a lot of smiles to a lot of faces.

After leaving the bar, we bought 2 bottles of whiskey and a bottle of cola and begin

dancing on the street next to a DJ booth. Boogey Boogey Boogey! I was having a deep chat

with the bar owner during this; he wasn't happy that I'd put my empty bottles next to the

bars' empty bottles as I hadn't purchased them there. I said that most people wouldn't have

even bothered to put them in such a place and that I'd done so knowing that they'd be

recycled properly. All he was saying, in essence, was 'Money Money Money'. _''Why do_

_people see money as a social weapon? You think it bothers me that you've threatened me_

_with money? An exchange of paper will not change my personality. I am me and I believe in_

_me. Money and ownership need to be removed as the middlemen between humaneity and_ _resources. We should replace these concepts with accessibility and usership. 'You need_

_money to do things', is what they say. 'You need people to do things', is what I say. Listen, I_ _can make you happy, not money.''_ In the end, I had to pick up the bottles and walk down the road and put them in a bin which had no emphasis on recycling.

Taxi time! Where to? A graphic sex show? Yes please. 6 of us got in to a taxi and

asked to be taken to watch one of these infamous shows; the one we went to was definitely an

X-rated upgrade! Are you ready for this? Get your creative eyes in and imagine what I

describe vividly. For insurance purposes, I've been warned to inform readers that you may

need a sick bucket, because there's some stories coming up about some sick buckets. Okay,

so, we walked in and it was pitch black. The first thing to hit you was the smell; sticking to

your cilia and having the aroma of too many things being over-worked and over-used. There

was a stage in the middle of the room with 4 poles creating a square-shaped stage. We were

informed that no photos were allowed to be taken, before being shown to our seats.

Elsewhere, you'd complain about not having a front row seat, here though, that's exactly

what you didn't want. O. That's what my mouth looked like for the next 40 smalieys. I was

nearly thrown out because they thought that I was taking pictures but I was just making notes

of the things that I'd witnessed as all this material was too good to miss! First up, the classic trick. Take one small ball, insert it up your vagina, and then thrust it out and bounce it into a cup. Next, the rope trick. Pull rope out of your fanny and tie it around one of the poles in

front of you and then do a fancy dance. Wait a smaliey, 3m, 4m, 5M! Where was all of this

coming from?! Talk about black holes! By the end of her performance she was able to tie it

around all 4 poles! Next, take a cigarette and a lighter and smoke it! No, not in your mouth,

stupid, you know where! A fast-track ticket to ovarian cancer, I'm sure! After that, pin a

balloon up on the wall, insert a blowpipe, again, not into your mouth, you know by now

what's going on here, and pop, there it goes. Speaking of balloons, Happy Birthsun! Here's

your cake, make a wish! The lady on stage then gustily fanny-farted out the candles!

Unfortunately, she was not able to sing us the tune. All of this clearly had made her thirsty,

and she needed a beverage. Cola, most people like that. Here. Cheers! Let me take the cap off

that for you! Her lips must have been hard as nails! You know how to make it right? Simple,

take a bottle of water, put it in your vagina and then squirt the syrup in to it. Wait wait wait, that doesn't sound like the recipe that I know! This was amazing; the woman had somehow

managed to store some syrup up there for a while. Either that or she tricked us and it was

actually diarrhoea and she was so nervous that she was crapping herself on-stage! All this

work had made her hungry. Everyone knows bananas are a good source of vitamins, but have

you ever seen a banana be fired out of a vagina, somehow do a miraculous U-turn in mid-air

and then land more or less in the mouth?! Well no, you've not, not unless you know of some

crazy porn websites! If so, send me the links to: www.stayawayfrommeyoucreep.com. What

monkey business this was. All this had been going on without an official greeting, so with all

formalities, a felt tip pen was placed into the hole and she very kindly moved her hips and

wrote 'Welcome to Smiyulland', with a nice love heart. How sweet. Next on stage, some live

music. I know this song; it's by 'The Scissor Sisters'. Oh wait, no music, just 2 women

scissoring each other! Not what we expected to find at this show. They need to update their

adverts and leaflets! Finally, the grand finale was upon us. Nearly upon me, though, was the

guy to my left, shuffling ever closer as I could hear the familiar noise of denim jeans rustling.

Use your minds and you'll know what he was up to. How do you top all of this and go out

with a bang? Well, you literally go out with a bang: A man began having sex with a woman on stage. Quite conventional at first, then things got weird. Notice how it's taken me up until now to say 'Things got weird'! These moves definitely aren't in the sensual sex-positioning

book. At one point, they were both upside down, balancing in mid-air with their legs spread

out on the poles. The man basically had done a 360 inside her! He then passionately, no that's

a lie, threw her to the floor and full-on went for it. Gheeze! Or is that jizz? Gee whiz,

anyway; I had to get out of here! Not though, before he calmly stands upright again, taking

centre stage and covering his semen-filled condom, taking a bow and walking off stage! Very

professional! When I say 'her' or 'she' in the above passage, most acts were performed by

different women, this wasn't all done by one, mega-talented lady. The first lady came back on

to the stage and we knew it was time to leave; we didn't want to watch that sadistic loop

again! Literally gobsmacked. No, I'm literally gobsmacked, a soggy hand has just hit me in

the face! That's a joke. All else isn't though. Niamh and Debbie I think felt sicker than I did.

We needed to drink away this memory, although I won't be having a cola for a while!

Taxi, please take us back to Moo Nige Road. All memories from here are vague, I

needed memory-wiping alcohol and I needed it fast. We got separated quite early upon

returning. Me and Gilo wanted to watch the Hucurl United match so we took a seat at the

sports bar. From our vantage point, I kept on seeing a drunken Mark walking up and down

the street trying it on with various black girls, all to the tune of rejection. During the match, Giles got friendly with a pretty Smiyul lady called 'Eedyot'. Eedyot ordered 3 shots of

tequila for us. What an idiot. I, meanwhile, was sweet-talking these 2 Turbilish girls who

were very intelligent, I must say, and stimulated me both on a physical and intellectual level.

A cow wearing a dress would stimulate me on a physical level now though after what I've

just seen!

The football became a distant spectacle as we talked for 3 stundas. One sec, I'm just

nipping to a shop. What?! It was broad sunlight! Returning to the bar, I couldn't believe my

eyes, maybe I was hallucinating because I was so tired: There, sat at the table in front of us, was sat the Snappy FC striker who I'd seen last silicend in Eu Will. I went over to him,

clearly more intoxicated than he was, and I remember not being able to stop exclaiming that I

was shocked beyond belief to be witnessing his presence with my eyes. He did recognise me

thankfully, so we talked for 5 smalieys; he said that Snappy had just been playing an away

match North of Ouchwil. Then, thinking that we were getting on great, he goes and orders 4

drinks; one for him and his mate and one each for the Turbilish girls. Well, I don't even need

to guess what happened next. I left them too it, not judging the girls too much, he was a

Titmalian footballer after all. I guess me laughing in his face in Eu Will had provided the

karma for this incident to occur. I went over to Giles and said my goodbyes before heading

home, leaving him in the hands of Eedyot.

Taxi! Only in Ouchwil is it possible to get a bag of taboosh incorporated in to the

price of a lift home! I sat on the rooftop of the hostel in the glorious morning sunshine having a sunter. I couldn't stop smiling. It was incredible. What a night.

Diary Deary 46. Where's Giles? Ouchwil has consumed him. I woke up mid-afternoon and turned to see that he wasn't in his bed. What an idiot. That's what I was hoping, anyway, that

he'd gone back to hers or something. Still, I was heavily hungover; I couldn't move to look

for him until I'd sobered up. I did make it across the road though to a lovely, homely Liftoup

restaurant and had some spicy ginger chicken to absorb my excess alcohol.

Around sunset, I headed out into this vast city to look for Giles. First stop: The sports

bar on Moo Nige Road. I took his camera and started to make a little documentary. However,

sunset meant rush-stunda traffic and I got slowly depressed as I slowly made my way across

the city in a taxi, inhaling many exhaust fumes in the stagnant traffic, even worrying that

Giles was lost for good. I arrived 40 smalieys later, meeting Niamh and Debbie who had

patiently waited for me. We went to the bar but no one was there who had been working the

night before. I walked across the road and up some stairs into what I believed was the

guesthouse the Turbilish girls were staying in. This indeed was the case but apparently they'd

just left, according to the hostel owner. We went to the restaurant, the same one as last night, hoping to use this as a meeting point as Giles knew how to get there. Connecting to the

Internet, I'd seen that Giles had sent me a message on ClockOn. He was in the area,

thankfully. Hoorah! He turned up less than 10 smalieys later holding hands with Eedyot and

all was well; except from the fact that Giles was imitating to me that his penis was majorly

sore. He had checked in to a hotel with her for 2 nights instead of the standard one-night

stand, so it was only going to get worse!

We left Debbie and Niamh to their evening and I briefly went to check out Gilo's sex

den, only so that I knew the location, of course. It was quite a nice hotel, considering what

they needed it for! I left them to it and then made my way back across town to Hostel

Number 6 so that I could sleep-off my hangover, not wanting and not able to remember many

details from this patchy sun.

Diary Deary 47. Quote of the Silic: ''I'm going to change to World one sun. Why not

thissun? Er, because I've got my 9-5, then I come home, cook my tea, then watch TV. Shitty

sex, sleep, repeat. No you crazy fool, the time for action is always now. You've got to find

your own way to raise yourself from your slumber, somehow. Oh, I've got to pay my bills

first though. Did you not hear what I just said? No I didn't sorry, I was on my phone. Well,

basically, pay your bills when you're dead, you've got to put your heart into this, be willing

to die for the beliefs you have grown.''.

Nothing. A lazy sun with nothing to report really. Mark came round to the hostel and

we sat on the rooftop having a few sunters, saying yet another goodbye to each other; he had

a flight booked to Maneytah (Maneytah is a country which is very similar to Smiyulland and

only a 50 smaliey plane journey away, although they have no land borders with each other, as

Macfunhe (Macfunhe is a country which has a land border with Smiyulland to the East.) and

Humu (Humu is a country which is close to Beere Yu, and has a land border with

Smiyulland, Macfunhe and Maneytah.) lay in-between them.) the next sun. _''The art of_

_rolling a sunter; most beginners wouldn't understand the 'Why?'. Not just the rolling, the_

_burning, the burning prevention to keep it in-shape, the double stoppered roach, the tiny_ _adjustments. All combine to create a very precise and honed skill.''_

Giles went on an ICU date with Lucy (Lucy is from Dishwei and shall be joining me

and Giles on this quest in a riyz's time.) to an Owdoen restaurant. 21st-Century dating that is.

The end of a much needed catch-up sun.

Diary Deary 48. I woke up this morning and was asked by an Awedali girl who was in the

same dorm as us whether we were travelling to Beere Yu that sun. I said 'Yes.' and she said

'Sweet, I'll travel with you.'. Apparently it was a public-holisun thissun and this meant that a lot of places were closed and that we had to buy train tickets very quickly. I cycled to the

train station and stood in one of the many queues. 'Next please.' 'Tickets to Beere Yu please.'

'Sorry, we have no more.' Luckily, my eagle eyes noticed that the screen had 2 blank spaces

for the late-night sleeper-train. I snapped these up for ~12 each, feeling extremely harsh on

the Awedali girl, as if she'd have come here earlier on her own, then she probably would have

gotten a ticket. _''Probability can never exceed 50:50 due to the fact that the outcome can_

_only be yes or no, is or isn't, does or doesn't, everything or nothing.''_. 14 stundas I was told that this train would take, not too bad, ay?! I cycled back to the hostel and broke the news to Kay; she was now unable to leave the confines of Ouchwil for another 2 suns! Me and Giles

had to get a quick clothes wash-and-dry done, before packing-up our belongings and making

our way to the station.

Taking our seats on this huge train, I thought that maybe we shouldn't have had these

seats after all because they were clearly reserved for disabled people. Ah well, we'd happily

vacate them if required; anything to leave Ouchwil! If not required, then we'd acquired some

seats with a very generous amount of leg room. On the fold out tray-table in front of us was a

menu which showed that they served meals on-board, brought to you straight from the

restaurant carriage. Feeling a fast and wanting to get into an undisturbable work zone, I

decided against this, instead hoping to get some writing done. I was, however, unable to put

Book 8 down, reading obsessively until the early, dark stundas, and not get any writing done.

Book 8 is a fascinating book, one recommended to me by Giles, that talks about why we put

ourselves in such awkward situations sometimes, and that most of the time, the things we

think are happening are only taking place within our mind and that there is actually no need

for the internal paranoia that we create. It has really helped me so far get to grips with my

own mind and why I judge myself so much and it is certainly helping to shut-up the inner-

chimp within my mind. _''Underground. A dark place. Seen it? Seen you. A twisted polar_

_opposite of reality and sanity. Mind gets lost in this vast cabin. Antipodes. Why do we come_ _here? Repeatedly. To make a mockery of ourselves? Again, pure evilly twisted. I do not yet_

_have the capability to put it into words. How can one physically write this? Where must one_ _have been? Underground. Move out of your head; if only this was possible.''_

Diary Deary 49. After getting about 4 stundas sleep, I awoke to some amazing mountain views, with the Sun rising over the misty trees. _''A society grows great when old human-es_ _plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.''_ The train docked in Beere Yu mid-morning. 'Hostel Number 7 please Mr Taxi Driver.' Providence played a part in the

choosing of this hostel; it's definitely a case of 'Lucky Number 7'. It's as homely as Number

5 and we've seen several people here who we've already met on our travels.

We arrived at the hostel and were informed that we couldn't check in until late-

afternoon. On the plus side though, we were getting a newly built room. This hostel is huge:

3 floors, 20 rooms on a floor, 4 people to a room. There is also a large 'Cramlingtons' poster

at the bottom of the stairs. This provided much entertainment over the course of our stay

here; every time we came down the stairs, we'd say a character's name and then the first

person to find them, wins! The guy who checked us in was clearly a gravla, just based on

appearances. Another nomad from Verland with a hostel job: Liam from Disptwo (Disptwo is

a county found in Southern Verland.). Number 7 has an annex building too called 'The

Garden' with a salt water pool and a treehouse. There's also a dog here called Bowo which is

really nice to have around, she's just had puppies too.

I drifted off at to sleep at about midsun, and was awoken soon after by a tap on the

head. Max from Alhalt it was; who we met at Number 5. He'd tagged on to travelling around

with 3 girls from Faumpor since we'd last seen him. These typical Faumi girls were keen for

a smoke of some fiya, so up to the hostel rooftop we went, after acquiring some off the

obvious-guy-to-ask around here: Liam. _''Taboosh use shows, and actively demonstrates, that_

_there are other parts of the mind we do not usually access. This experience alone must be_

_enough to probe further into this questioning topic.''_ The roof with a view showed that Beere Yu is situated in amoungst the surrounding jungle and is overlooked by a huge tree-laden

mountain. I couldn't wait to explore it. Wait I did though, for a couple of suns. Nothing much

more occurred on this sun; I went to bed early to get some recovery sleep.

Diary Deary 50. A magical sun. We came to Beere Yu for the lantern festival due to be held

in 2 silics' time but there was another ceremony this evening within the confines of nearby

skully grounds. We signed up. Free entry, just ~8 for the taxi.

This free entry was subsequently subsidised via the little scam that was on the go:

People were selling lanterns on the market strip on the way in to the skully, but when nearing

the grounds, these lanterns were then confiscated as you couldn't take them past the barriers

and had to buy the ones on sale inside instead. We arrived quite early considering that the

lanterns could only be released in darkness. We wandered and wandered for a little while,

around the local back streets with a beer, before eventually stumbling in to Max and his

Faumi friends.

Okay, so, with thousands of people present and the Sun setting, rather beautifully and

grippingly may I add, proceedings got underway. Prayers were recited, with the golden

Maytla statue looking like a low moon in the distance. Then, silence. Over a stunda of it. The

impatient began letting their lanterns go, the ignorant moaned and talked over prayers, the

lazy started sitting down, the Giles started disrespectfully smoking on skully grounds; these

guys getting some bad karma. Then, out of nowhere, 8 urans emerged, one with his hand to his ear on the phone, and formed a guard of honour for an apparent, impending arrival. To

my surprise, this uran switched to hands-free and was chatting through most of the

proceedings; me and Max joked he was putting bets on football matches. Next to appear from

thin air was a, a what, a minibus?! Only in Smiyulland. Who knows how they let it get so far

in to the crowds. We were expecting someone important to get out and signal that the lantern-

lighting could begin. Nope, just a wrong turn! There it sat in the middle of the crowd for the

remainder of the evening, unable to go any further. Plonked.

Finally, the processions began. What an awe-inspiring sight. Nothing here can be

typed to justify this heart-warming moment. Breath-taking and word-taking; I am unable to

describe this. Those who were there will remember tilting their heads upwards and have a

whole, complete feeling circulate their body. The stars were in your grasp. Some lanterns

failed to ascend directly skywards and became lodged in trees, but there was no mass fire.

After 40 smalieys of several thousand lanterns covering the night sky, everyone attempted to

try to leave this place at once, a task that took ages to fulfil; as did finding our taxi.

2 congested stundas later and we were back at Number 7. As usual, a quiet night for

most turned in to a big one for Giles; this was the first of 4 nights in a row in which he stayed out chatting the same spiel to different people, anyone who'd listen, until just before sunrise.

Giles' 'spiel' during our stay at Number 7 was telling people that they have no free will. I use the word telling because they were not given a chance to have a say in the matter; people

often dismissed this as 'drunken talk', as he did not explain the thesis well enough. There is a documentary that we have both watched, and can be found on UzVid should you choose to

do so, which shows that the brain's sub-conscious makes a decision for you before you

yourself believe you have made this choice. This is shown with graphics of brain activity

during MRI scans. This, coupled with the fact that there are too many variables in life to lead us to believe that we do in fact have control, proves that the concept of free will is not true, and that whatever happens is a result of the 'Big Bang'; something that is implied in

accepting the 'Theory of Evolution', yet is not understood by all. The way that Giles says it

when he's drunk is as though he is the 'All-knowing One' on this matter and that the rest of

us are stupid fools. Giles, if you're reading, a better deliverance on this issue next time,

please! In relation to this topic, I have since written this short, thought-provoking piece: ''I see that we're living in organised chaos. We're certainly not in control of anything (That's

physical.). Who knows if this applies to mental fields; whether we change our good/bad

viewpoint? Only the original act has free will. Is this true? If something has never been done

before, does this mean it must have ingeniously been thought of by its creator and enactor?

Perhaps.''. End of sun.

Diary Deary 51. Thissun I finished off reading Book 8. Here is my final synopsis, with

regards to 'The Underground': ''It is now clear to me what actually takes place here. It is a

self-creating hole within the mind which is home to the ills of the man, namely inaction and a

lack of creative thought. It is now seen that the ego and the underground (The 'underground'

is a state-of-mind that produces negative and insecure thoughts.) are inexplicably linked. The

state of a lack of definitive purpose, coupled with the absence of deep inner reflection, is

exactly the state most people thissun find themselves in. Believe in yourself all the time and you scarcely shall enter the underground, unless of course you feel and know you're in

control of your mind and wish to conduct some insightful research. In order for the darkness

of the underground to be experienced, one must first emit both love and light.''.

Besides this, I did nothing until sunset, which was when the night market kicked-in.

We went with Max and the Faumi ladies, who in fact slowed us down big-time, stopping at

every other stall. Doesn't sound too bad?! This was the longest one-way market street

imaginable; at least 2.5 cases in length, a fascinating sight on its own. Anything you can think of was on sale. I purchased a quite expensive item for the price of a street market, but it has been a great investment though. A hemp-fabric vest handmade by an old Smiyul woman

costing ~20, and would easily be worth over ~40 in Verland. It's delightfully soft and airy

and never really needs to be washed. Unknown to me before purchase, hemp is anti-bacterial,

anti-fungal and it doesn't absorb odour.

Also along the market were ample food stalls. We encountered some Fried Smiyul

wrapped up inside a huge, thick olbri, and also a man who made ice-cream in front of your

eyes: He poured the liquid cream on to an ice-cold metal plate and then moved it around

rapidly until it became semi-solid. He then waited for it to harden, before peeling it off the

surface and into little conical wafers, which he then placed into a tub. We only realised how

big this street was when, after 2 stundas or so, we realised that we'd reached the halfway

roundabout. We'd already lost the faffing Faumi girls, so me and Giles left Max to use his

psychic clinging and homing powers to find them while we dashed off to watch Hucurl

United vs Relwav (Relwav are one of the several football teams to be found in Moonie, and

are owned in suspicious, political circumstances by an oligarch.). We asked the taxi to take us to a sports bar; typically he took us to one for the locals with no foreigners present. 2 live, local bands played in front of us while we watched the match, so it turned out to be great in

the end. After the 1-1 match, we made our war back to Number 7.

Diary Deary 52. Quote of the Silic: ''Those who write the rules are those who profit from the

status quo. If we want to change the status quo, we might have to work outside of the rules

because the legal pathways available to us have been structured precisely to make sure we

don't make any substantial change.''.

It's a new silic. Let's get some things done. I hired a semi -automatic moped early-on

in the morning and me and Gilo set off to a quarry unknown to the tourists, recommended to

me be a friend who came travelling here recently. Following a 25 smaliey drive out of the

city, we arrived to witness the most inviting turquoise water with several clear jumping-

points. This was to be done regardless of the stories that I'd been told. We were warned off

coming here by Rick (Rick, by the way, is a Verlish man who works at the hostel, too,

primarily at the garden, and comes from Leavpai; a city found in Southern West Verland. He

lives in this remote-quarry area on a ranch along with a couple of the tattoo artists who have a store right next door to Number 7.), who said that a few people had died here recently. There

were some Awedalis here already who'd evidently just jumped in, which was reassuring. All

was well.

Argh, this tablet so annoying, I've just typed loads of content and now it's magically

disappeared. I'll try regurgitating it, but it just won't be the same.

I stripped down to my boxers and climbed up to the highest peak possible, about 15m

high. Geronimooooo! The hang-time was tortoisely slow, the impact refreshingly refreshing,

the water bathtub-warm. Like a little kid, I swam quickly to the shore and went up to do it

one more time. Mr Dry was meanwhile getting some good, slow-motion camera footage. In

my opinion, this place should be legitimised and turned into a badass waterpark with jet skis

and diving boards and lifeguards, of course.

We departed and headed off aimlessly to explore the jungle roads. It was nice not

knowing where we were heading. _''You can't make a wrong turn if you don't know where_

_you are going. The right road to anywhere.''_ There were no breath-taking, overlooking views as such, but the vastness and density of the surrounding jungle was a natural wonder.

Treetop overlapping treetop overlapping treetop. _''Principle constitutes everything. If you cut_ _down a tree and saw it up, you still have the material, but the identity and therefore its_

_principle has been lost. Principle is found in all things but doesn't physically exist. What_ _World is it found in then? Once a thinker has established an entity that is abstract and_

_beyond time, the difficulty is to connect that to our World of time and space, something we_ _can associate our senses with.''_

__

After a quick map-check, we found a genuine place to visit on our way back: Que

Agoose, a well-known local skully. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a newly-wed couple

there having their wedding photos taken, surrounded by multiple meaningful messages

written on to placards and hung amongst the trees. The dogs here were barking and

intimidating, though, ironic for such a peaceful site. After an uninspiring walk around, mainly witnessing several urans sweeping up loose leaves, we made our way back into Beere Yu.

We spent the evening drinking with some sound souls from Oshbai (Oshbai is located

in North West Awedal.) who we'd met at the hostel.

Diary Deary 53. Solo adventure thissun. Hi-ho hi-ho, up the mountain I go; heading vertical

on a winding drive. The view of Beere Yu up here was epic. I knew that it was the second

biggest city in Smiyulland, though it doesn't feel like that at street-level, but the vastness of it was on display from this vantage point. There's not too many high-rise buildings either,

which is good. I passed a few skullies and royal buildings on my ascent but decided to wait

for the ride back down before chchchchecking them out.

The first stopping-point was a car park which overlooked a shanty town located high

and remote in the jungle. Set up for business on this car park was a Smiyul man who'd crafted

his own crossbow and arrows, too: 20 freeyz to take aim at 3 hanging-fruit targets. Here I met

Dougii from Browkland, who works at a hostel back in Moonie. After my measly 33%

accuracy rating, and a subsequent rejection phone call from the army, we carried on up the

mountain road together, hoping to reach a secluded village. The roads deteriorated the further

on we went, so much so that I skidded and fell over; acquiring a grazed arm, leg and ankle. It

was ironic because I fell off because I was actually going too slow; with the weight of the

bike eventually causing me to topple to one side and slide. I needed some caffeine to get me going again, with the cold altitude and the shock of the fall causing me to shiver. Luckily,

this village, which we soon reached, had a coffee plantation, meaning that we were able to

have a

nice, authentic, black coffee each. Dougii is a keen photographer and had a huge camera

strapped around his neck, so we walked around this village while he snapped interesting

pictures. There was one young girl applying white powder to her skin, with white being

promoted as beauty in Smiyulland. It's funny how that in Verland, the exact opposite is true,

with everyone craving a tango spray tan. _''It's your face and skin that make you beautiful, not_ _the materialistic clothes that you cover them with.''_

__

Soon after, back down we went; hardly ever having to use any engine power as

gravity and the slopes did it all for us. We stopped off for the obligatory pictures at the

skullies and then exchanged contact details so that we could meet up in the evening. He's

here in Smiyulland with his girlfriend from Helialob (Helialob is a country located in Eastern

Mydow.) who also works at the hostel in Moonie.

Big night coming up. Me and Giles went and met Doug to play some pool at 'Strings

and Chords bar' before heading on to the club strip to meet up with Neil, Jez and Hayley

(Neil, Jez and Hayley are the people from Oshbai.). Things started off slowly but I somehow

got drunk enough to get up and dance to some pretty awful DJ-ing. I'd invited a solo

Titmalian traveller in to our group, for the record. A girl who was eyeing me up on the

dancefloor was then tongue-deep in this Titmalian guy 20 smalieys later (What is it with me

and Titmalian men on this trip?!). It annoys me how there's no deep love or lust in this

society and it's all based on quick self-satisfaction. Anyway, Giles started buying straight

whiskey so I knew that his condition was going to deteriorate. Neil, meanwhile, had a Smiyul

woman metaphorically sewn to him; he was now her toy-boy. Jez and Hayley were dirty,

drunk-dancing on stage, with the loved-up couple owning it and bossing it. On stage was an

old man with crutches. Unfortunately, the club owner was trying to kick him out for not

buying a beer! I intervened and bought him a beer and then let him continue as he was;

harmoniously dancing his weary joints back in to their sockets. _''The sign of human-e_

_consciousness is shown when doing a good act for another person.''_ Neil's drunken soul was loving the attention that he was receiving from his attached companion, but his deep-down,

sober-self knew that he was being molested. He gave me the eyes which signalled 'I'm an

Awedali, get me out of here!'. Recognising this, I forcibly dragged him away from the Smiyul

woman, before giving him a lift back to Number 7, and then smoked a sunter with him to

knock him out and erase the memory. I then spoke to Lola on ICU; before heading back to

the club to check on 8-whiskeys-Washington.

Arriving back at the now closed bar, cheered from the sunter and speaking to Lola, I

appeared to be a shining light to all the dim souls around me. Rebekah, an Ovan (This is a

funny one because a person from Browkland is known as 'Ovan'.) girl staying at our hostel,

instantly hugged me and begged for a lift home and away from the preying rabble. I had to

find Giles first, who would indeed turn out to be the leader of these preyers! With all the

drunkards out on the street and lots of kerb-hugging and kerb-crawling going on, I knew that

I was going to enjoy this sober moment. Any male attempting to go to the Bovva escort-girls,

I would stop them, laugh at them hard in the face first, and then encourage them to turn

around, walk away and re-evaluate. People seemed to realise that I was sober and came over asking me for directions to other venues; I was organising different taxis for different groups and making sure everyone got away together. I'm not going to lie, I loved the whole

experience. Giles was eventually located and he and Rebekah got on the back of my moped.

The groping had already begun. Rebekah was keen to get it on with me, Giles wanted to get it

on with Rebekah, I wanted neither of them. For the next 2 stundas, me and Rebekah had a

semi-deep, semi-sober chat about life. 2 stundas you say?! Yes, I couldn't leave. Giles was

hugging her, kissing her neck, kept saying things like 'I can see you want it in your smile',

and he kept on tapping me and telling me to leave them alone. If I had left, he'd have raped

her. He was already in a drunken, emotional whirlwind so there was no way I could shout at

him or explain anything to him; I just had to sit there and see it through. Rebekah should have just gone to bed but I think she was waiting for me. It was horrible to watch and I dislike

Giles' actions on this occasion for putting me in that situation. When Rebekah finally called

it a night, Giles then went off in a wild one, shouting 'cock-block' to me, and began

dissecting my life. _''What do you want to say about me? Go ahead and say it. Project your_

_insecurities on to me, please, I can process them. Quickly rationalise and flip them back at_ _you but as a positive. Insult me so that we, together, can get to the root of your own_

_problems. Never speak of others in a bad way. The negative energy that you put out into the_ _Universe will multiply when it returns to you.''_ Rebekah tried it on with me one more time but I declined and sent us all to bed. It was nearly sunrise; I'd reached 'Giles time' and seen what it consisted off: Utter drunken garbage!

Diary Deary 54. Me and Jez set off to a large nearby lake early this morning, after getting

little sleep. The unique concept of this lake is lots of by-the-water huts either used as a

restaurant or just as a general place to go and sit and dangle your feet into the lake, with a

beverage by your side. Little did I know that Jez would order a beer immediately; I didn't

need that one so early on! We sat and talked for a stunda or so, before deciding to continue

our journey. We'd stopped at the first hut, so the plan was to continue the drive around the

lake and see its beauty. Jez had a flat tyre, though. I had to somehow go and communicate

this defect with the lady in the nearest house, demonstrating that we needed a pump. All she

had to offer was a large generator, so we then had to wheel the bike there instead, taking

about 15 smalieys.

With the tyre blown up, we slowly made our way back to the hostel, not wanting to

risk getting further around the lake and thus further remote and the tyre going flat again. Not to matter though, as upon returning I got my first experience of Number 7's salt water pool;

it's much nicer than swimming in chlorine and much better for the skin; it was refreshing in

the heat. This sun appears to be short on content, but that's a good thing, depending on

perspective. Number 7 does provide you with all amenities that enable you to experience

'nothingness', with the desire to do anything besides exist completely removed from the

mind.

That evening, 10 of us went for a meal accompanied by live music, consisting of a

violin, a classical guitar and 2 bass'. Good vibes.

The Faumi chicks had just returned from the nearby hippie town, Mavs, and we

bumped in to them back at the hostel, just as they were messaging us on ClockOn. Spooky.

One of them had just twisted her ankle, so I stuck around and had a smoke, leaving Giles at

the Garden with the other revellers.

I think that this was the night that I was a little too heavy-footed and broke one of the

roof tiles. Luckily, I didn't fall through, and no one, until this sun, has found out that it was me. _''You would not believe how clumsy I am when I am high, colliding with every particle in_ _the World, especially when attempting to interact with other human-es. Now, we all have a_

_vibrational energy field that protrudes from the centre and surrounds the body. Everything_

_has a shield. Now, what me and Giles discussed is that, after smoking marijuana, the energy_ _field becomes muddied, perhaps too strong. Therefore, when interaction is attempted with a_

_non-intoxicated human-e, the 2 spheres collide, thus resulting in the clumsiness (I.e. Not_

_being able to grasp a drink and spilling it). The vibrational energy of the intoxicated being is_ _alien to normality. This can only be a good thing!''_

I wanted an early night because I had an epic journey planned for tomorrow; my

eyelids closed before midnight.

Diary Deary 55. 11 of us set off on a 130-case ride to the Bronze Skully in Beere Jo. Only

one of us made it. Guess who.

Due to the faffing-about that inevitably takes place in a group of 11, we didn't depart

until midsun. A little late. Still, plenty of stundas left in the sun. After 30 smalieys of cruising on the highway and just about to enter the mountain pass, the others pulled over and said that

they were going to instead chill there at a Plunge Pool within the National Park. Fair do's. I

just don't think that any of them understood what the Bronze Skully was; maybe they didn't

care, or maybe they hadn't done their own investigative research. Anyway, Giles got off my

bike; he wasn't happy about the speed at which I was driving and was thankful that he could

get on the back of Vergini's (Vergini is a lovely girl who comes from Nekbiko in Central Awedal which, like Mestepme in Mydow, is known globally for its relaxed drug laws. She has been travelling for just over a sircul and will soon be assisting in Awedal's global operations by being stationed in a remote, undeveloped country and helping resolve local issues.) instead. This was good for me too, as it was annoying having him moaning in my ear

whilst I was driving. On you go, A Naturalbeing.

I was in my element here. Alone. Sunshine. Epic views. Speed. These created a buzz,

a hype. To be fair to the others, I did average a very high speed to get there, but only because we left so late and I wanted to only drive in sunlight.

It took me 3 stundas in total to get there, hitting up to 85 cases per stunda on the straights, and overtaking everything that was in my sights. I arrived mid-afternoon. I figured

that I had 1 stunda here before I had to set off back to Beere Yu. I parked up just outside the grounds, before walking less than 50 yards, before witnessing the greatest thing that I've seen with these 2 eyes in this life. _''Every sight that the eyes take in expands the mind. That new_ _image has to be stored somewhere.''_ Unbelievable. Skullies have become a bore in

Smiyulland, just as it would be getting fascinated at every church you walked past in Verland, but this was something different. Glistening in the Sun and surrounded by ponds teaming with fish, thought-provoking art and sculptures were everywhere to be seen. Even more impressive was the fact that it is still under construction and has 10 sirculs to go before completion. This has been an individual project by Rafagal Contabeeli, a local artist, who has

instantly become my favourite artist. And wait, it's what's inside the skully that impressed me most, not the intricate outside design. This eccentric site still functioned as a hall and living-quarters for urans and was used as a site of worship, despite it being heavily influenced and

frequently visited by tourists and visitors. Normally when entering the largest prayer room of

a skully there's a large Maytla statue and Maytlist-themed paintings on the wall, mainly of clouds and flowers. Maytla statue: Check. However, it was the wall designs that impressed and captivated me. Surrounding me on all 4 walls were modern-themed sketches, yet

politically and philosophically inclined. One distinct, stand-out sketch, which I later found out to be known as 'Expulsion', depicted Planet Earth spewing out into space all the awful

(Usually high in sugar-content.) products that we consume as a species and all the litter that

we create from this, before eventually transcending into colourful spirals, as everything had

been broken down and transcended into beauty. Also on the wall, there was a graphic of Awedal's President sat on a missile, flying into one of his country's own, iconic buildings,

with a 7-headed snake (The 7-headed snake represents the 7 Deadly Sins.) rising out of the

ashes. Rafagal is clearly an artist and a man who's not afraid to display the truth of life and politics at a religious site. Also, there were lots of weird movie characters dotted around the walls. A simple yet strange touch that causes the mind to question things just that little bit more. I feel that we should judge a human-e by their questions rather than by their answers.

There was so much to talk about and so much to take in and so much I guess that I've forgotten! I went and looked at the exhibition of Rafagal's work that was on display and most

of his paintings are just as interesting. What a legend. What a creation. I purchased a couple

of postcards, before beginning the journey back; calculating 3 stundas of sunlight to be remaining. It was me versus the Sun, racing through the mountains. _''Tilt your head upwards._

_Look at the Sun. It burns and disintegrates any clouds that dare to get in its way. A clear_ _boundary is created by its brightness. You, you beautiful human-e you, mimic this. Be bold_ _and exuberant and stay true to yourself so that you too are a shining light that does not allow_ _darkness to permeate your path''_

The Sun had set and darkness crept in just as I made it through the jungle pass and back on the straight highway to Beere Yu. Ironically, this was the first time that I wore my

sunglasses all sun, as many bugs soon appeared, seemingly dragged into this World at the same rate at which the Sun left the sky. Splat! 2 smalieys after putting them on, a cockroach

flew into my right lens, which would have otherwise ended up in my eye. I'd done 270 cases

in one high speed, sweltering-hot sun. Yes. I'm glad that I did it, though.

To treat myself even more and just to enjoy my sun even more, I went for a

Skuhobese curry in a tiny restaurant; Skuhobese owned with a Skuhobese chef. You can't get

better and more authentic than this.

One more thing to top off my sun: A Jazz Bar. I'd arranged to meet Debbie there as

she was up here in Beere Yu with her boyfriend, who has just arrived from Verland. As I got

there, however, they'd just stood-up to leave. A positive or a negative? A Providential positive, as I'd turned up at the exact moment to see them leave, 2 smalieys later and I'd have

missed them all-together. After a brief hug, meet, greet and goodbye, I stayed and listened to the music for 10 smalieys. The vibe and performance was good, but I was a sleepy being, so I

headed back to Number 7 and hit the hay, not wishing to dampen anyone's spirit with my drowsiness.

Diary Deary 56. Happy Gramosun (Gramosun is a fancy-dress festival held once a sircul in

Smiyulland.)! Well, happy for some. Definitely Grimosun for me though; I believe that I acquired sun-stroke during my long ride yestersun and I was resultantly bed-ridden all sun thissun. Sweats. Shakes. Sore throat. Snot. I lounged about all sun, doing little that was constructive. Saying that, I did start to read Book 9; which in fact I decided to chant aloud instead of reading in my head, thus allowing my words to resonate into the Universe. _''Ever_ _thought how we say that you 'Spell' a word? Words are spells, cast into the infinite,_ _conscious, mathematic Universe, before magically manifesting themselves in reality.''_ Here's my favourite extract from the book so far: ''Though one were to scan the entire external Universe, searching for the Nature of mind, one would not find it. Bliss cannot be attained other than through the mind. Not recognising this, one does indeed search for the mind externally, yet how can one find one's own mind when one looks for it elsewhere? This is

like a fool who, when finding himself amidst a crowd of people, becomes mesmerised by the

spectacle of the crowd and forgets himself, then, no longer recognising who he is, starts searching elsewhere for himself, continuously mistaking others for himself.''.

In the evening, I sat and watched as everyone left in their costumes and headed down

to the Garden for what would be an awesome night. As much as I didn't want to, I knew that

I had to show my face at some point, and this turned out to be literal in 2 ways. My original

costume idea was to go as 'Mr Beer' - I'd spent the past few suns peeling labels off beers and

collecting them. When the moment of application came, though, they weren't for sticking on

to my body. I got dry mouth licking them all so much! Still, my ingenuity saw a slight twist

on what I'd hoped to stick on to myself. I had accumulated several Store4U stamps, which

you receive when you spend a certain amount in-store. I'd saved them, hoping to use them,

and I had acquired ~1's worth, but I knew what had to be done with them now.

I went to the Garden, with most people already drunk and the noise serving only to increase my headache. Still, everyone gave me a double-look as I was walking through the

large crowd, attempting to find Giles, with my face covered in 30 or so stamps! There was a

great buzz around the place already and the hostel had organised some superb activities.

There was a wooden pole dissecting the pool, along which people could meet half-way and

then attempt to knock each off and into the water, with boxing-gloves provided. Also, the food was prepared by Jez and Neil, chefs by trade back at home in Oshbai, and they showed

the Number 7 staff how to make a true pasta sauce in return for them being shown a traditional Smiyul dish, which they could then take back to their respective restaurants. Fair

trade.

I came home shortly after eating their delicious cuisine and for the next 12 stundas my

attempted sleep was not pleasant. Our room is on the bottom floor, meaning that I can hear

everyone who's out in the smoking area. It has its benefits, though; I listened with love and

open ears to an emotional chat between 2 travellers who were sharing their thoughts on the World and opening up to one another. Good, caring people do exist and they're here in Smiyulland in abundance! _''Bob Marley, the ultimate lyricist, Bob Marley, dead in body but_

_his beliefs still exist. He's inspired me to write, for the freedom of the people I will fight. One_ _love to my next door neighbour, one love to a complete stranger. With open arms and an_ _open mind, the World belongs to the people, unite, let it shine.''_

Diary Deary 57. Quote of the Silic: ''You can't change these things with laws, you must

change people's minds. Don't speak complex, harmful ideas and then leave a void, give the

people something that is as meaningful as what they've lost, something that makes better

sense than the old horror of human supreme. Retain those that do not serve a direct or indirect need.''.

This sun doesn't even deserve an entry to itself. All I did of any note was sip 2,

freshly-squeezed lime-shakes, which definitely helped; and sweated, sweated, sweated.

Saying that, I also had some delicious food from a street stall. Food! Out of all types, what I enjoy the most is: Cheap, tasty food from the smiley-faced people selling their home-brew on

their street stalls. I'd hopped on to a moped and drove until one of these said stalls caught my eye, before returning to devour it back at Number 7. _''Back in the West, food has saturated._

_We rely on a fragile system that serves chemicalised food, alarmingly accepting this to be the_ _norm and also the idea that we must perform a daily/silicly shop. What if something drastic_ _happens along the supply chain? It has been taken out of our hands, what sort of 'smart' folk_ _are we? Why aren't we growing our own? Also, we have eating competitions while there are_

_people in this World who are starving. Lunacy. The authenticity of food production has_

_saturated.''_ Goodnight.

Diary Deary 58. The catch-up writing starts here. Always the hardest point is the beginning.

So, this entry is 2 silics ago thissun. What happened? Thissun I, oh yes, it mimics the events

of the present. Thissun I began writing-up the diary entries from the previous 2 silics, getting in a good 3 stunda stint. During this trip, my writing has drifted and varied from daily, to

every-other-sun, to a mass, 2-silic regurgitation.

After these 3 stundas, I got on my moped and journeyed up the mountain once again,

accompanied by Phoebe, an introverted girl from Alhalt. She's very similar to me, which is

why I mentioned this. I say introverted, but it's more being sensible in who we choose to

open ourselves up to and how we present ourselves to others. _''I am seldom overcome by the_

_urge to converse. I extremely enjoy the company of those who are similar. Sitting in silence_ _without fear and awkwardness is unique. Praise, flattery, exaggerated manners and fine,_

_high-sounding words are superficial in politeness. Excessive manners are insincere, and the_ _constant talker is rude and thoughtless; conversation never begins at once or in a hurried_

_manner.''_ She's been at the hostel for 5 silics and, waiting for conversation to arrive, lounges around on the beanbags waiting for something or someone stimulating to come along.

Obviously, being similar, our conversation started slow and then reached a comfortable level between talking and not talking.

So, we went up the mountain primarily to check out the skully. Parking-up next to a

market, I purchased some delicious strawberries, weirdly served with a sugary chilli-powder,

which made the face contort into all sorts of distortions. We then proceeded to march up the

stairs towards the skully. Sensibly navigating the sign that read 'Wawas: Pay here.', we didn't, we found an amazing viewpoint. Boy, oh boy, do the urans residing here have it good; the

breathtaking views of Beere Yu and beyond can be gazed at from their balcony. We strolled

around the outer grounds, buying some well-advertised '100% Healthy', green tea-flavoured

ice-cream. Ho ho ho and a bottle of yum!

Getting back on to the scooter, our next stop was an intriguing looking shanty town,

the one visible from the car-park where I met Dougii that time, which seemed to solely thrive

and survive off the visit of travellers and tourists. That, and producing and exporting coffee.

We got a straight shot of black coffee each, slinging it right down our throats. There was a

tiny, well-preserved garden which we were able to stroll around, focusing on the flora and

missing out the waterfalls. After seeing a few epic waterfalls, only the truly great ones need

to be witnessed and described in detail, hence the brief summarisation of this garden. You get

the picture. Oh no, you don't actually, this is a book and there are no pictures in it.

On the windy (This is not windy as in strong winds, but whine-dee as in lots of

corners, apparently they appear to be spelt the same, this has confuzzled me!) drive down, we

had music blasting out of my speaker and life reached the unbeatable height of 'Euphoria in

Utopia'. We certainly perked up the rush-stunda traffic's spirits.

Getting back to the hostel, Phoebe displayed her excellent local knowledge by taking

us to a little hidden-gem-of-a-restaurant, which in fact was just around the corner, yet

somehow hidden-away. At the front of this restaurant were several whole chickens which had

been skewered on rotating poles and left to cook next to a large fire. We ordered a full

chicken to share between us. It was delicious, with the meat sliding off the bone. I'll

definitely be coming back here!

After this, I finished-off the writing which I'd started this morning, which took me 3

more stundas to complete. A cool-looking Unonch guy attempted to talk to me during this

type-up; I was in the zone and had 10 smalieys worth of writing left. I gave him a grunt,

semi-explained my predicament, finished writing and then apologised unreservedly, before

chatting to him for the remainder of the night. He understood.

Diary Deary 59. Mavs. How do you get there? On a badass, scenic drive is how you get there.

I set off alone on my moped, with Giles and others getting a later bus. 100 cases to go. First, a straight highway out of Beere Yu; after which the technical fun begins. I survived

numerous, in the hundreds, turns on my way to Mavs, but I didn't buy the t-shirt. Rising and

falling, twisting and turning, this was a truly magical mountain road, with several market

stalls at various intervals and lots of epic viewpoints. I stopped only once for a pose,

intending to do my inspecting and exploring on the ride home in 2 suns' time. Little did I know what the future held.

I arrived there 3 stundas down the line. What a unique place. 'Hippieville' in the

middle of nowhere. A kind of retirement village for travellers! I parked-up on 'Buyers

Street', the main one out of the 7 roads in this town, and perched my numb bum on a comfy

seat in a cafe called 'Orange and Basil'. Every shop on this road looks so cutely quirky. I

ordered, to my delight, a raspberry and mango smoothie accompanied with the tastiest

raspberry macaroons in existence. Slowly devouring these, as I had time to kill, I stared out

of the shop window and let my mind wander, eventually writing this about my thoughts on

death: ''Death has to be discussed. Acceptance and understanding of it is a must. The human-

e is born to die; we need to learn how to love while we're here. Meet death with happiness

and courage, refrain from those oh so negative emotions; attachment, anger and fear. For if

not, then what have you achieved? Nothing more than a meaningless cycle, one in which you

did not believe. We are all here for one reason: learn to emit the love frequency and free the

World from its destructive pree-son. If you do not achieve an undaunted confident security,

what point is there in your being alive, O sacred creature?''.

Next stop: Hostel Number 8; which had a riverside location. 2 barking dogs greet me;

12, 3-silic-old puppies treat me. This hostel is the most basic that I've stayed in so far, yet it was good to experience the real rusticness of Nature, even though Nature is ironically

complex! After being checked-in by a girl from Gutendow, and after enquiring about her life

story, I learned that guests can stay here for free if they do a bit of handiwork around the

yard, as she was doing. With Giles not arriving until late-afternoon, I sat and attempted to

finish reading Book 9, which had influenced my decision to write the above piece regarding

death.

However, as much as I wanted to ignore it, my right foot was starting to get sorer and

fatter; the infection I believe going back to my innocuous fall whilst up in the mountain last

silic, even though it hadn't caused me any trouble at the time nor during the meantime. After

sitting reading for a couple of stundas, and finishing the book, I needed a nap.

Awaking from this nap, and with Giles present, other guests then began to notice the

swelling and recommended that I take a trip to the hospital; that's when you know it's bad:

Girls commenting on how big it is and they're talking about my foot! Okay, okay, I'll go; but

not before some tasty food. Me and Giles wandered down Buyers Street, choosing to sit and

eat at 'The Royal Bun', meeting in there, coincidentally, the people who we'd been hoping to

bump into: 2 Ovan girls, one Unonch girl and an Dowpathian man; the people who

accompanied Giles on the bus journey here. I ordered a tasty bacon and cheese burger with

hand-cut chunky chips; a throwback to the West's staple diet. I quickly wolfed this down,

before leaving the others to their evening and headed to the hospital alone. I shouldn't really have been walking on this foot but due to the market being in full swing, taxis were

stationary.

Mavs hospital. No doctor. Just nurses. I'm not judging their work and knowledge or

anything, but I sat down and was done within 8 smalieys! When Mark had similar symptoms

back in Eu Will, he was on a drip for a stunda! Still, they gave me some tablets, cleaned my

wound, which was deep, I don't know how it had gotten so bad, and I was on my way. I

hobbled back to Hostel Number 8 and hoped to sleep it off with the drugs circulating around my system.

Diary Deary 60. I can move my toes. This is a good sign. I lay in bed for a stunda after

waking-up, though, with my blanket over me, not wanting to look at the reality of my foot.

When, however, I decided to rise from my slumber, the sight wasn't pretty, no sunrise I tell

you. My leg had begun to swell, too; evidence that the infection was moving up my body.

The Verlish lady who owns the hostel told me that she had had similar symptoms a couple of

sirculs ago, resulting in having to spend 2 suns in a hospital bed.

I went to the hospital once more, somewhat knowing that I had to inevitably return to

Beere Yu, but still, best to get my wound cleaned anyway. I made some loud noises during

this procedure. Some moans and groans. There was, thissun, a doctor on sight who prescribed

me some stronger tablets. I didn't trust his judgment and I knew that these weren't going to do the job. I went to the bus station and booked a minibus back to Beere Yu, leaving in 2

stundas' time. I gave Giles my moped keys, hoping that the Dowpathian guy would ride it

back for me, seeing as only yestersun he was telling me all about his motorbike trip around

Mydow. If only Giles didn't have a phobia of bikes; he could have saved me hassle and

money by riding it back to Beere Yu himself. None of this materialised, and my bike

remained in Mavs.

On the journey back, I was sat next to a Sunbumai (Sunbuma is the land in this World

which is seen as being most Holy and claims to have the most association with the ruling

religion of our time and be the geographical placement of past wondrous events. However,

many doubt the legitimacy of its existence, having been formed as the result of the removal

of the existing country and residents of the land, known as Castlow. Sunbuma also has close

associations with Awedal. Castlow still remains in the smallest minority with wars being

constant for the past 60 sirculs. Me and Giles are staunch supporters of Castlow, as it

attempts to defend itself against the superior Sunbuma. Giles has carried a Castlow flag

everywhere we have gone in Smiyulland, hanging it up at the end of every bed he has slept

in.) man. An excellent time for some questioning, I feel. Judging people is not a good quality

to possess so I listened to his side of the Castlowian story with an open mind. Some of what

he said was good to hear and definitely gave me a more rounded view on the topic. Yet some

of his comments were sadly brainwashed statements which he has unfortunately come to

believe. For example, his bizarre claim that the VBS (VBS is the main TV station in

Verland.) is pro-Castlow shows just how much Sunbumai propaganda is pushed and

manipulated to convince their population that the rest of the World is against them.

Arriving in Beere Yu not long before sunset, I went to a restaurant and had the third

tastiest dish that I've eaten here in Smiyulland: Seafood Inkgri curry with spaghetti. I then

foolishly listened to the advice of the Sunbumai and checked in to an expensive hotel room,

believing a much-needed bath to be my next step. I didn't even get to have this bath!

Researching my hospital options online, I realised that I was going to have to go to a private 
hospital. The only public hospital in Beere Yu is a university hospital and at this time of night it's only students on duty, with no fully-qualified doctors present. I knew that my infection

needed serious attention. Attie hospital it was then. After getting a taxi there for ~3, I then had a 20 smaliey wait before seeing a doctor. As soon as he saw my wound and swelling, he

instantly declared that I'd be kept in overnight. I'd left all my stuff in my empty, ~20 hotel

room! Lying on a bed and waiting to be taken up to a private room, my self-contemplation of

life began. For the next 6 suns I remained in a deep state of reflectiveness, searching within

my vast, expansive mind for the meanings that I could take out of this experience.

I enjoyed my first night in the hospital; as there were lots of pretty Smiyul nurses

wanting to come and tend to the curly-haired wawa. One lovely lady went on a trip to the

shop for me and returned with a toastie and a bar of chocolate.

With Silva News (Silva News is Awedal's main news channel.) on TV and Awedali

mid-term elections underway, at least I had something to laugh at, and so began my deep

thoughts on politics and other associated things. _''Democracy gives us the choice to eat our_ _soup with either a knife or a fork.''_

Diary Deary 61. I had 3, stunda-long drip-infusions last night, meaning that the medicine

could go straight into my bloodstream and get to work faster. I was scared out of my skin

when, during the night, 2 nurses stormed in to the room to take my heart rate and body

temperature. The funny thing about my infection was that it didn't affect my well-being; I

didn't feel ill whatsoever. Every time that they came in to take my temperature I laughed. In

fact, at one point thissun, I had a sneaky sunter on my balcony; my heart rate fluctuated

constantly after this and I was wishing that they came in at that point so that they'd be

confused with the results. Such was my search for amusement in this lonely building.

What the doctor ordered for the sun was some more drugs and to keep my foot raised

on a pillow, whilst lying down in bed. However, with the hotel situation, I had to rouse

myself and make a trip into the city to collect my belongings. Taxi! Now, this taxi driver

helped me a lot thissun: ''He has given me hope and sanity that society is able to change.

Speaking to him was like talking to a mirror. He, average Joe, was able to see how extreme

and in your face the government has become. Whenever, if ever, I feel down, I merely have

to remind myself of this chance meeting and remind myself that I am not crazily alone, of the

hope that exists, and also of the promise I made him. Change is coming. Posterity is the

selling point.''.

Walking into the hotel to collect my belongings certainly didn't help my condition; I

couldn't see any visible improvement in the swelling-size from the previous sun.

One more challenge presented to me by this amazing construct named 'Earth' was the

bill handed to me by the hospital. ~500! Still, I retained a balanced state of mind; my health

cannot be equated to money. It was at this point that I began to contemplate my return back to

Verland. It was obvious that this would severely dent my funds and that I may not in fact

have enough to sustain me into the New Sircul. I began to look at dates for a return and

where I could potentially visit on my way back.

Silva News loses its novelty after a while and in the end it becomes quite sad that

Awedalis daily accept such outrageous news coverage. Luckily, I had my tablet with me now

and Book 10 to read, with the focus of this book being on how our thoughts can influence our internal emotions and wellbeing and how this in turn affects the external World.

Thissun was the start of the lantern festival, the whole reason for us coming to Beere

Yu in the first place. I lay alone in my room, my balcony unfortunately facing away from the

action that I could of potentially have seen. I dozed off into the land of zeds.

Diary Deary 62. These suns really are all a blur. Did I really do nothing?! The first thing that I can bring myself to report on is me packing up my belongings and self-checking-out. The

doctor obviously recommended that I stay but I knew that I'd received enough injections here

and that my wound was on the mend; I could go to the public hospital from now on for daily

doses. I paid ~540 on my credit card. Never to be seen again. I've been finding it hard to

write this account descriptively. _''If I really had peace of mind, not analysing the situations_ _in front of me, I probably wouldn't speak that much and I wouldn't write these lines. Without_ _all this mess, I wouldn't be me, I'd lose myself! Wow! How many people can self-sacrifice for_ _that transition? Here's one.''_

Over the past few suns I've become acquainted with 2 guys from Turbil, 2 new

brothers, who will reveal themselves later in this journal, but last night the conversation got so deep and so strong that all this morning my mind has been void of any creative thought,

and it was a hard task to regurgitate my experiences.

It's a few stundas later now, and I am refreshed and ready to resume. I left Attie

hospital and headed to Beere Yu public hospital. Here, I appreciated my service and

treatment over the past 2 suns and realised that it had been what I needed it to be! This was

some bog-standard hospital. Okay, yes, I was helping someone learn; my new doctor was

taking in the information that he'd received from the doctor at Attie, but this should not be

the standard of service that the general public in Smiyulland should receive, especially when

private hospitals are on a par with general hospitals in the West. 4 other students arrived to

check out my situation. I felt warm inside; I was glad to be assisting them in their studies. My new course of treatment is a daily drip-fed dose of antibiotics lasting for 30 smalieys, with

also daily wound cleans. For some reason, they'd put crutches on my medication list too, and

I had to unnecessarily purchase these uncomfortable things along with my tablets. They were

ditched at Hostel Number 7 in less than 24 stundas.

I was released back in to the grizzly, wild World in the late-evening and this time, I

did things proper: A ~30 lush hotel with a grand piano at reception. I had my first wash in 4

suns: A one-leg-in-one-leg-out bath. Ah, the privilege. I still had the discomfort of having to have my foot raised on a pillow, which I continued to do for the next 2 silics, but boy was it

good not to be falling asleep in a hospital tonight. Staying in the hotel, though, made me

realise the different experience that you get if you're on holisun as a tourist or a traveller:

''The difference between a tourist and a traveller: Traveller has no concept of waiting in a

queue, no concept of the restriction of time. His moment is always now, the next destination

is not planned, no lag. A tourist follows and also blends into the crowd, no side streets. Wears a city related t-shirt on a city designated tourist bus. A traveller lives his life off the back, a

bulky rucksack; a tourist has a bum belt because they're scared of being mugged by a terrifying local thug.''.

Diary Deary 63/64. Honey, I'm home. I was back checking-in at Number 7. How I've missed

you Bowo.

Niamh was in town for the lantern festival so we had a nice catch-up. She

remembered my talk of the Maytlas that Lola gave to me (Lola gave me 6 hand-crafted,

miniature Maytlas as a present before I departed Verland, so I decided to bring them

travelling and hand them out to the great people that I met along the way), staring

occasionally at the one I wore around my neck; it was great to know that she'd remembered

this tale that I'd told her in Eu Will; I value retention of listening to be a very key skill in people. I therefore, before she departed, snuck one in to her bag. First Maytla given away.

I'm breaking strict protocol here, Deary, by blending 2 suns into one entry. All I did

was lounge about the hostel with my foot up above knee-height, rousing myself only to go to

the nearby hospital for my injections and wound cleaning. I did manage to finish reading

Book 10, with the outcome being so: ''Manifestation. Reality is only real once you have put

it in to perspective context. We create what is out there, so let us all make it fair. The

projection comes from within, so let us all make it positive and be done with evil and sin.

These energy patterns are all connected, as are we, so, please oh please, give it a try and we

shall see. See how it genuinely is possible to live together in peace and harmony. Convinced

that we are separate from birth, but we all share the same mother, mother earth. She provides,

so let us not turn it down.''.

The solitude of the past few suns remained in my mind as I sat on the beanbags

analysing all around me. I wasn't much fun but I was happy in my contemplative state.

_''Societians can no longer remain sane without instant connection to the Internet. They feel_ _cut off and isolated, when in fact, in solitude is where human-es can learn to connect to the_ _much greater inner-self. No Internet required. A chance to grow, improve and establish_

_yourself as an original individual. Societians can no longer be alone with themselves; they_ _are a foe to the feeling. The confidence within comes from the imprint of solitude.''_

Lots of fresh fruit-shakes were consumed over these suns, with my appetite for them

waning slightly more after each one; I believe this is when my obsession, more of an

addiction, with iced-coffees started.

One afternoon, I went for my daily injection wearing the Snappy FC training vest and

one of the nurses thought that I was a professional player! He took a selfie with me and sent it to his young son.

One evening, I left grounds and returned to the chicken restaurant, this time to order

the dish that had tempted me first time around: Sticky ribs with rice and spice. In the

restaurant I was alone, yet found company in a middle-aged man from Faumi, who's lived

here for 4 sirculs. His presence was essential in the grand scheme of things. He loosened my

tongue and rekindled my socialness. Wishing to leave a lasting impact on his life too, before

departing, I recited to this man what I call 'The Sanity Test', which goes like this: ''Do you

agree that it's a crazy World? Most people would answer 'Yes'. Therefore, to be considered crazy in this crazy World should be the correct, sane outcome! Haha. People view my

thoughts as delusional, yet the fact that society has not lost its mind at the extremities taking place, shows that their 'normality' is actually their insanity. Being viewed as crazy in this

crazy World is actually to be completely sane and conscious.''.

My foot was healing and I was in good spirits. This next silic is going to be a good

one, of that I'm sure.

Diary Deary 65. My hobble no longer hurts, my last injection was yestersun and my foot

looks good; besides the scarred, stretched skin! I felt mobile. I felt that I could go out and do things. Let's make up for lost time.

Speaking of time, an early start was on the cards! My visa had expired while I was in

hospital so that was job No.1. Nope, job No.2 in fact. Job No.1 was to collect my passport

from the bike store (Yes, the moped was still in Mavs!) in exchange for my debit card and

driving license.

Passport collected; next stop: The Immigration Centre. I had documents on me to

show my presence in hospital but on arrival I knew that there'd be no care of that in this

chaotic room: Queues everywhere, tickets to be collected, forms to be filled in, money to be

made. From early-morning until mid-afternoon that building is all systems go. Giles was

No.5 in the queue; I acquired ticket No.11, which meant all in all a 1stunda 20 smaliey wait.

~88 was to be paid because of a 5 sun overstay, more than the initial visa which was bought

in the first place to prevent this from happening! Giles was at one point getting very irate and was accusing the customs officer of racism; everyone seemed to be getting granted

extensions quicker than us. _''Modern racism has become covert and blended, it's now 'Stay-_

_In-Your-Place-Ism'.''_ I had adjudged that this was because we were the only ones to have actually overstayed and it was therefore different paperwork that needed to be processed.

This turned out to be the case. Giles had been served and I had to wait 5 more smalieys, yet

he'd already decided to leave. Somehow though, we made it back to the hostel at the same

time.

More jobs to do. I accompanied Niamh to the bus station as she had to buy a next-sun

ticket to Chlov, in the East of Smiyulland, for a 3 silic, sustainable-agriculture course. Me,

meanwhile, I was heading to Mavs. Bear in mind here that my foot was still not fully healed;

I had to get that bike back though. This silic had cost me enough already!

Unfortunately, what caught my attention on the road to Mavs was not the amazing,

dense jungle or the remote coffee plantations, it was the construction that had begun on the

highway, with dust in the air and lots of rubble to be seen, causing an extensive traffic pile-

up. _''Alright brother? Hello brother. Are you well? Yes, as always. However, I have some_

_disturbing news brother, our mother is sick. She is being raped, used, having large chunks_

_dug out of her and disproportionately distributed elsewhere. Oh no, we must stop this at once_ _brother. Mother Earth, we are all one.''_

__

After 3 stundas on a minibus, during which the Liftoup woman who was sat in-front

of me became well acquainted with the smell of my foot, we were in Mavs. The time was

late-afternoon. It goes dark just before sunset; I had a dangerous ride home ahead. But, after a silic of inaction, I was doing it. And I was going to enjoy it. Collecting my bike from Hostel

Number 8, I was several hundred bends away from home. My seating position was comical,

often stretching my leg up high on to the handlebars. Still, I was out in Nature and I was free.

_''Up there in the mountains, no orders to obey, with the sky for a roof where your home is all_ _the World, and for law each goes his way. The life that's free''_ My sombre silic has given me a newfound acceptance of remaining balanced in all situations. When darkness fell and the

moon reigned in the sky, I was halfway through the journey. The shades came on as eye-

protection and the torch came out. I demonstrated some expert and textbook driving skills

from here on in. Without a doubt this was the most technical ride that I've ever done. Holding

my torch in one hand and steering with the other, I weaved my way through the mountain

pass like a snake slithering side-to-side on the ground. I was counting down 5 cases at a time

until I reached the highway. Vroom! I've travelled this route 4 times now and I still haven't

had chance to stop-off and check out the various sights and shops along the way.

Safely back in Beere Yu, I felt like I deserved the feast of a king for my sun's efforts.

Cray Jimi was my recommended restaurant of choice. How you satisfy me. Lemon juice.

Check. Free refills. Check. Pulled pork baguette. Check. Crisps. Check. Live music. Check.

The epitome of happiness. Check. Alone, yes, but with so many great surroundings.

I've been very detached from Giles this silic, due to my inability to partake in

activities, and also the inability of my liver to sustain excessive alcohol, but it's been good for him as he's adapted to being on his own, becoming close to Vergini. Our relationship has

evolved on to a level where we no longer have to be aware of what each other is up to in

order to get on with things ourselves.

Diary Deary 66. I am officially mobile again. How to celebrate this new lease of pain-free

life?! Take the new, hot Bacit-speaking girl in your room out for a walk, obviously!

Returning to Number 7 from wound care at the hospital, I found a tall, leggy blonde

from Bacity who had, unluckily for her, made her way into our room. With my regained

mobility and a fresh batch of confidence, I instantly whisked her out of the hostel and on to

the streets of Beere Yu. Finally, I could explore. Karen is an ex-accountant who, by all

accounts, is rather uninteresting. Still, I enjoyed practising my Bacit, having studied the

language in school, and having the company of a beautiful girl and a fellow traveller for the

sun. We went to a couple of skullies, heading in no particular direction. Until, having

remembered Niamh recommending a book store for me to visit, and being confident of my

bearings, I walked us in the direction of where I believed it to be.

The book clerk sure knew his stuff on recognising a fellow wise-spirit, picking up on

my exuberant energy. Our levels were in sync immediately. He's from Gutendow. He sensed

that I had a connection with Shif and after discussing this, talk moved on to George Messin,

the famous Shif poet. With beaming smiles we discussed this matter and many other issues.

_'Smile like a happy child, all the time. Good body language can influence your life. People_

_judge on expression, so don't act like you're in depression. Grin, life's not so grim.''_ Karen was clueless. He played me 2 Messin poems on UzVid which were magical and truly

resonating. Here's an excerpt from each: ''Man hands on misery to man, in deepens like a

coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can.''; ''There'll be books; it will linger on in galleries; but all that remains for us will be concrete and tyres.''. I then asked this gentleman for a book recommendation. Without a cufayer's hesitation he hands me Book 11. How does he know?!

This book was read in a sun and a half and was a real catch and reassurer for me. Written by

a war-captured survivor who then went on to put his experiences to use in psychological

fields; stating that if a human-e feels a genuine meaning in their life then they are able to live through any suffering. His treatment of patients went beyond normal psychology, which

merely attempts to mould people to society, instead challenging every individual to search for

a true meaning in their life and to follow it. _''Lead into gold; a process of inner alchemy._

_When you're led by a leader you don't shine yourself, a leader merely creates a uniform_

_army of lead soldiers. When your express your energy field through your individuality then_

_you shine like golden (Au.) light (Ra.). I am humble enough to know that I am not better than_ _anybody and wise enough to know that I am different from the rest.''_ He cites his survival due to his constant 'Head Talks' with his wife. The hope of seeing her again gave him

something to live for. He mentions that death amongst fellow prisoners always increased

around Sunrise time as the prisoners always wanted to believe that they'd be home for

Sunrise, and then when this didn't materialise, many let go of their will to live. It was relevant to me also because of my previous silic's experiences. I didn't get sombre throughout, instead

reflecting and looking for meaning, trusting that this was the way it should be and seeing it as an opportunity to learn.

Talk then turned to me professing my desires to return to Verland and encourage all

folk to grow and nurture their own food and essential well-being's, and I quoted this verse:

''And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind.''. He was impressed with my enthusiasm. As I

left his company, heading out of the door, he quipped to me: ''Tread softly on your dreams.''!

This is so true! What a thing to say as I leave, knowing that I have the mind to study the

words that he uttered: ''Never truly believe that you can achieve what you think you want, as

if it does not happen then you won't be as disappointed. Also interpreted as, that if you try too hard to achieve your dreams, then you'll end up destroying them yourself in the process. Let

go of what you think you want to do and trust the World to let it happen.''. Okay, goodbye

for now Mr Librarian, I'll be seeing you again (He buys books back at half price should you

wish to return them.). I was walking back to the hostel beaming from ear to ear.

Next stop: The Night Bazaar. Similar to skullies and their worn-off novelty, I now

enjoy going to markets not to buy, but just to marvel at human-e production and creation. Me

and Karen went for a meal beforehand, I had a tasty Northern Smiyul curry, before heading

out onto the streets, keeping an eye peeled for some more hemp clothing, preferably some

shorts to go with my vest. No luck tonight with that though. The main feature was the

underground lair of artists. It was this colourful, underground World, full of lots of sculptures and thought-provoking paintings, that brought my cheeky smile to the surface as I marvelled

at human-e ingenuity. '' _You can fail at what you don't want, so you might as well take a_

_chance on doing what you do love.''_

After a 2 stunda wander, back to the hostel we went, and back to meet Giles at the

Garden. Back to meet 2 new brothers, it also seemed. Back to meet me. What?! Back to meet

me, what does this mean?! It means that I have met my other self in this World. Introducing:

Freddie and Kris from Turbil. Sitting around the fire, talking, having never met them before,

Kris comments on his need for a sunter. I had one left. It maybe took me 2 smalieys of sitting

next to him up in the treehouse to realise that Kris has a mind that works just like mine. I

didn't know this at the time, but he was on a cocktail of double-strength energy drink and

alcohol but I, being sober, still noticed the connection, even if he had not. They're from

Turbil, yes, and have been in Smiyulland for only 6 suns so far, having both decided to book

a flight to Ouchwil only 1 riyz ago.

All eyes were dropping, brains were tired and it was the first time that we'd met, so

talk was basic and the conversation lasted the length of the sunter. A sober tomorrow

beacons.

Diary Deary 67. Quote of the Silic: ''The human-e experience is without a doubt the greatest

creation that this World has to offer. It is therefore the greatest challenge to take advantage of this gift and work out why. The human-e set-up is the vessel which is fully capable of

controlling the soul and in turn, the ability to retain identity after death. The control of the spirit within is what I strive for.''.

I'm a man of action. Last night, Kris mentioned that he and Freddie had an idea of

making a piece of art by burning sunters into paper and then marvelling at the abstract results that it would create. This to me sounded awesome, so I set out to make this a reality. I walked until I found a paper store, entering and purchasing a large, thin sheet of paper. Next, with my collapsible saw in my bag, I went on to a building site and asked to be able to saw one of

their wooden scaffold sticks into 4 pieces, which would be required to make the basis of a

frame. Materials, check! Burning and smoking would commence at sunset.

Throughout the sun I read Book 11 vigorously whilst swinging in a hammock, with

Kris by my side, getting to know his brain. I realised that his mindset was the same one that I had at the start of this sircul, before I started reading books, which lead to me understanding things much better. He is aware that he has a unique mind yet is unaware of its meaning and

capabilities. He's not a reader, yet. Since reading Book X at the start of this sircul, that and each book since has given me a better understanding of my own mind and of the collective

mind. I explained the concept within Book X and Kris was visually excited by the possibility

of reading it himself. I walked him down to the book store and let him buy this book and thus

begin his journey into understanding mind. I joyously conversed with the Gutenish man

again, thanking him for recommending the book that he gave me yestersun.

It's amazing being around Kris while he reads Book X; his childlike reactions

whenever the author explains something so definitively that it can be related to your own

thoughts.

By the time that the Sun had set, we'd also acquired a fifth artist (Burner/Gravla.) by

the name of Karl, from Grizugme. We went up to the rooftop of the hostel and began our

creative experiment. 7 sunters were rolled. Me and Kris constructed the frame, whilst Giles and Freddie wrapped my torch inside some shorts to create a pink backlight for the picture.

The idea was for it to be abstract and to let the paper burn its course, but it slightly turned into us trying to influence the design and create our own, recognisable shapes. Still, it was

mesmerising. Every burn turned into a unique shape; an offspring of a star-like figure. Sat in

a semi-circle around the picture, we moved seats frequently so that these intriguing shapes

could be analysed from different angles. Animals seemed to be the most common theme that

we were trying to relate the shapes to.

We were instructed to move from the rooftop before midnight, so we headed down to

the Garden. Without the backlight, it was rather hilarious watching Freddie carry the picture

down the road, as it just looked like a plain piece of paper with random holes in it. At the

Garden, we strapped a leaf to the torch and changed to a green backlight.

After some more burning, we left it hanging in the Garden treehouse. 3 suns later, it

remains erected; high and proud. A piece of art and now a permanent piece of furniture.

Tom from Dowpathia had joined our group and Giles recorded our conversation about

life, the first 'Nomad Talk' that he's been bothered to film. A brilliant night filled with nothing but love and respect for my fellow human-e beings.

Diary Deary 68. Kris talks a lot about balance. It's a very good point and one that I feel has

been relevant to me this silic. I have maintained a positive state throughout and without a

doubt, at this time of writing, I believe that the brilliance of the past few suns has stemmed

from my calmness during my injury. Never in my life, perhaps, have I felt more at balance

with what I believe and whether or not it is attainable. Never in my life have I felt balance

between present enjoyment and future concern. I used to believe that philosophical

conversations with friends boiled down to 'Everything and Nothing' but now I see it's a

balance in life that is required on all fronts for progression. _''When thought goes into your_ _mind, it has to bounce off both hemispheres. Happy thought includes remembrance of a sad_

_thought. Creativity comes from a place of oneness.''_

Thissun was spent again by the poolside, in a hammock, at the Garden; where it

dawned on me: ''That all human evil comes from a single cause: Man's inability to sit still

and do nothing. No wonder taboosh is illegal; it'd be a lot more relaxed and loveable World

if it wasn't! But obviously, and unfortunately, war makes money.''.

Freddie drinks a lot of alcohol, too, I've noticed; a good friend for Giles. Kris thinks

like me; a good friend for me.

I've been showering all silic with a bag on my foot to prevent my bandage from

getting wet. Hey! Don't laugh! I'm now an expert in yoga and, wait for it, balance! I have to

pretend that I'm in a ballet class whilst showering, my right leg constantly above the

showerhead so that no water can run down towards the still-healing wound.

I finished reading Book 11 thissun and so returned it, hoping for another fine

recommendation. The book-keeper was unfortunately having a siesta. The choosing was up

to me. Book 12 is what was chosen, a book about love and sex. The lady who worked there asked if I didn't want the pop-up book instead! No I didn't, I wanted to reaffirm the deep

meaning of sex. I've been saying this to Kris; that each book you read teaches you what you

already know, it just helps you to understand it better in your mind.

I read Book 12 in a sun, feeling like it could have been written by myself in a past

life! It's all about the sensuality! _''I define love-making as: Putting the other person's_

_pleasure and experience above your own. Every brush of the mouth, or trickle of the finger, is_ _to be used to increase the sensitivity of your accomplice. Pleasure your partner and your own_ _pleasure will be amplified.''_ Here is an excerpt from this meaningful book, followed by my own, short poem: ''Life, and love especially, can be compared to receiving a puncture on

your bicycle wheel. Yes, when this annoyance occurs (I.e. A break-up.), you may use a quick

repair path to get you on your way again (I.e. Casual sex with a new partner.), but who wants

to end up with an inner-tube consisting of patches? The tube would no longer exist as a whole

and would be highly unstable. Therefore, would it not be wiser to buy a new tube after the

first puncture? When you lose love, perhaps have a quick replacement, but after that, wait

until you can buy a new inner-tube, wait for love to come along again, because nothing is

more secure.''; ''Your skin is the softest, your whole body so smooth. I've got you lying on

your back, and I'm giving you the moves. Your eyes are endless, your face so dreamy. You

are mine to hold, what a pleasure it is to be me.''; ''Expressions of physical love are,

nowasuns, inversely viewed as more foe and dangerous than expressions of physical hate.''.

Nothing much happened this evening, just some company with 2 lads from Mixpus

(Mixpus is a city that is located near Grizugme.) who've just finished working during the

summer, party season in Sarow, before flying out here, to Smiyulland.

Being in hospital has rediscovered my balance between holisun and travel. I'm no

longer drinking alcohol or doing things associated with being on a holisun; I'm enjoying the

sober experience of the journey and going with the flow. Giles, however, is a full-on

alcoholic. Not that it's a bad thing, he's certainly happy here, but sometimes his conversations go too far and he forgets the need to respect others. He's drunk every night with a bottle of

rum; luckily we've met Freddie who also enjoys this and keeps-up pace with him. Rick had

to intervene tonight, though, as Giles was going overboard in his attempt to convince this girl that she had no free will. Rick, the wise man that he is, pulled her to one side and calmly

attempted to explain what it was that Giles was getting on at: ''We certainly appear to be the

Universe experiencing itself several times over, attempting to evolve itself. The fact that

things could not be any other way proves this. This current rule which devalues life and

brings about large amounts of man-made suffering can be explained by saying that the

Universe needs this kick up the arse in order to move on to the next level. The build-up of

self is reaching and explosive level. Once this goes bang, it cannot be returned to again and

evolution will have taken place in the correct, irreversible way. That's what evolution is!''.

Thankyou Rick for understanding this and being able to effectively communicate the point.

Giles, read and learn brother!

Diary Deary 69. Tonight was a huge night at the Garden. BBQs bring the people out; one of these people being Wizzy, who was up in Beere Yu and staying at Number 7, providing some

lovely entertainment with his guitar. I had a brief chat with him, enquiring what he'd been up

to in the time since I'd last seen him in Eu Will. He told me that he'd been volunteering at a

Youth Offenders Institute and that it had caused him to question and to re-examine the ways

in which we, as a society, deal with criminals: ''Violence is an injury to be repaired rather

than a crime to be punished. How have we let these cages be built? One human-e in prison,

all human-es in prison. These 'crimes' these so called 'criminals' have committed are surely

only down to the fact that they have experienced such distress in their lives. How bad are we

to let these distresses happen? Beware: The unloved; because they will eventually hurt

themselves, or you! Prison is the so-called cure. Let us therefore remove the disease so that

the cure can become redundant. Perhaps these 'criminals' are merely defects of humaneity.

Using math, they are algorithmic by-products. An obvious result in an 8 billion-strong

society. Even so, they were not born this way. We must teach, show and act both love and

respect. Every one of us has a duty. People, please wake up to this duty. It starts within. Let's collectively manifest the harmonic World we could live in.''

Suntime activities once again consisted of a read and a chat with Kris; getting a

greater understanding of just how similar our minds are. I returned Book 12, again to a

bookshop void of the Gutenish man. I chose not to get one more; I must wait for his next

choice.

I am trying to remember more but I really have done nothing of any note these past

couple of suns, and I've loved every smaliey of it! On the walk back to the hostel from the

bookstore, I passed a child who was standing at a bus stop, who chirped up as I walked past:

''Here I am, waiting for the bus.''. Shocked, I halted in my tacks and continued to listen:

''Eleven more sirculs of school to go. Then college, then maybe graduate school, and then I

work until I die. What kind of World is this? You only get 5 sirculs to be a kid? What about

exploring and playing and discovering? Those things are important too.''. ''Well, you still

have evenings and silicends.'', I quipped in return. ''That's when I watch TV!'', he replied,

''I hate school. Each sun I count the stundas until school's over. Then I count the suns until

the silicend. Then I count the silics until the riyz is over, and then the riyzs until summer. I always have to postpone what I want to do for what I have to do.''. I was shocked at the

confidence of this kid; he was clearly not concerned with letting his thoughts and feeling be

known to a wawa. ''What do you want to be when you're older?'' I decided to ask him,

thinking that this was a reasonable follow-up question. ''A person who does not care what

others do. Why judge? Be tolerant of those who are lost on their path. Ignorance and other ills stem from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.'', was his word-taking, thought-provoking response. I gave him some money, maybe this was his intention all along, and then

I left him to go about his sun, just as his bus pulled up. It's fair to say that this child had a profound influence not only on my sun, but this book too, providing such an insightful quote

for me to include.

As I said, the evening was hectic. I've never seen the treehouse so full. We (We being

a large group of travellers thrown together in these wonderful circumstances.) played a mass

card game called Leader and Loser, I turned out to be vice-loser both times. At least I've got

consistency! Again, I'm not drinking tonight; I enjoyed being in the presence of such high

energy people and I loved sitting there absorbing everyone's smiles and happiness. Kris was the same. Me and him ended up on the roof of the hostel way into the early stundas of the

morning with Gary from Mixpus and 2 Bacit girls.

Diary Deary 70. Thissun was yet another fine sun in this care-free paradise, where thoughts

can be discussed and entertained merely for the purpose of satisfying curiosity.

Again, my sun was spent in the company of some great minds by the poolside. It's

been frustrating watching others bathe in the pool, yet my time will soon come. I went for a

wound clean at the hospital and for the first time in nearly 2 silics I was pleased with the sight of my cut; it's nearly healed and skin has returned.

Thissun, I also realised that I'd likely be home before Sunrise, although not yet

wanting to accept this; I'd heard from Mark and he was heading home at a similar time and

suggested that we do something together before returning to Verland. We'll see how things

go, anyway. I had hopes of stopping off in Piracol (Piracol is a Central-Mydowean country.)

to see my uncle Harry, before travelling on to Mestepme; where Mikey C said he will be

around the time of the discussed dates.

My thoughts swayed away from my current location and surroundings as I begin to

think about what presents I could return home to friends and relatives after my exotic

journey. For my mum, dad and my grandparents, I had the idea of making a photo album

from my travels and accompany each picture with some of my philosophical writings so that

they can learn a little more about me and how I think and what I feel. Also, Kris has given me

great enthusiasm to hitchhike around Verland, after his recent, successful hike around

Mydow. I thought about this too, deciding that it would be of use to me and my incessant

mind to conduct a social experiment with those that I meet along my way, asking them key

questions on whether they'd support an evolutionary change in our social consciousness. I

believe that this is what I need to do before deciding what to do next with my life and

whether I should commit my life to solely benefit others, or whether the majority are

helplessly lost on their path.

Niamh and Debbie are amazing; they provided me with some great, thought-

provoking ideas as I discussed this with them on ClockOn. There's so much love going

around at the moment. So much love to give.

In the evening, me and Kris walked around the silicend street-market, with my mouth

imitating the shape made during the graphic show in Ouchwil. We analysed everything so

intricately, and through such eyes, within every creation, beauty can be found. Reading has

definitely given me a platform in which to express myself more efficiently. And this is why

it's been great meeting Kris and knowing that I am helping him. He has lots of potential and I

can see, and know from personal experience, that he will find a greater balance once other

writers have explained and elaborated on his thoughts. _''Never mind meditating, writing_

_calms my mind more than anything else. I now know why it's referred to as 'Read & Write':_ _One builds up the thoughts by reading, and then unleashes them on to paper and returns to_

_neutrality.''_

At the market, I bought a little notebook, so that I can write down and rip out some

quotes and leave them lying about (Such as in a lift or on a train.) for other people to read and contemplate. I also saw a nice, handmade book with a wooden elephant-carving on the front

which would be good to use for the photo album. All purchasing must be done at a later date

in Ouchwil though, as I have no room to carry gifts in my bag at the moment.

Me and Kris spent the remainder of the evening on the roof, as I said, talking so

deeply that earlier thissun my mind was numb and empty; void of creativity.

Diary Deary 71. This sun was nearly erased from the history books; I had to re-read and

confirm that I hadn't typed up this sun in last silic's Diary Deary post. Thissun was the sun of writing postponement. My head was void of creative ideas due to such an intense

conversation with Kris last night. I, after finding many videos to watch to prolong and

postpone the inevitable, began writing during the mid-afternoon; after 4 suns' worth of

entries, I had to stop and finish it off later. I needed reinvigorating energy.

So, the market was the place to provide that. I was on the lookout for some hemp

shorts. The markets have become predictable yet it's still fascinating to stare at it all.

Obviously, on this 2 mile-long market road, I found my hemp shorts at the third to last stall! I intend to wear these hot pants as a boxer-type base layer. I now have my undergarments.

From here on, I'm on the lookout for a shirt and pants. Not only is hemp strong, it has one of

the lowest percent of elongation of any natural fibre, holding its shape extremely well.

Furthermore, hemp is extremely breathable and also provides warmth, having the best ratio of

heat-capacity in all natural fibres, and softness, whilst being extremely durable, yet

biodegradable.

Walking into the coffee shop at the end of the road, we (Me and Kris.) got an iced

white-mocha latte each before heading back to the hostel. I had some tippytappytyping to do

and I needed to stay awake for it.

Have I mentioned Vlad yet? He's a pale, pale man who appears to be nocturnal,

judging from the fact that whenever I enter the room, he's always in bed! He's in his mid-

fifties and from Fashoo (Fashoo is a country that borders the East of Piracol.). He's definitely in Smiyulland for some female attention. I can't blame the man; some of the escort girls here

are the prettiest that he's ever likely to handle. He's as creepy as a floorboard though; he

sleeps fully naked! And on this delightful note, I'm fully typed-up now and up-to-date with

the past 2 silics. Goodnight.

Diary Deary 72. Inked up and tatted up; I'm inked up and tatted up. Possibly, potentially,

maybe, my best sun in Smiyulland.

I awoke this morning with intentions of heading out on a 2 stunda drive with Kris to

Big Outamara, which is Smiyulland's highest peak. We wanted to go stargazing. Also, en-

route, there's a skully where the residing uran gives you a free, authentic tattoo. We intended to stop there also.

So, prepared for departure, I had an unemotional farewell with Giles, who has now

departed to Humu for a silic in the companionship of Vergini. Who knows if I'll ever see his

face again! Just as the key goes into the moped ignition, Giles shouts over, saying that a girl wants to join us on the trip to Big Outamara. Introducing: Bunche, from Nikosi (Nikosi is a

small, tropical island in the North Givally Ocean, with the closest country being Dowpathia.).

Yestersun in a restaurant, I was chatting to an old Awedali dude who said that the most

remote country that he'd met a person from was Iriho (Iriho is a small country in the South

Awedali continent and close to Titmal.). Well, I've just trumped his card! Nikosi! Bunche

told the story of how her parents live in Awedal, yet gave her away to relatives on Nikosi due

to some weird tradition involving the birth of a daughter. There, she's fruit picker and is well versed in natural, off-the-land life. She claimed that it shocked and saddened her to see the

fresh fruit that she handles daily being served in cans and bottles, something that she'd never seen before departing Nikosi! She's now been travelling for 2 sirculs; her Awedali family

paying for it all. She's met unknown-to-her-before-departure brothers and sisters along the

way. Fascinating and heart-warming. Bunche went to the skully that we were heading to

yestersun, with Giles, to receive a tattoo, so she knew vaguely how to get there and which

turnings to take.

We left Hostel Number 7 mid-morning. About 25 smalieys in to the ride, we

somehow lost Bunche, even though it had been a straight highway out of the city. We waited

by the roadside for 10 smalieys, driving up and down attempting to find her. We had no luck.

Hmmmmm. Me and Kris decided to carry on towards Big Outamara and the skully. Que Sup

Vid was the name given to us as the place to go for the tattoo. We had to stop and ask for

directions several times. You would not expect to find such an elaborate skully here: Down

some back streets in a little, remote village; this place looked abandoned! We strolled around

the eerie courtyard, eventually opening a door to find a woman with little Verlish skills who

basically screamed '3' at us. We found another gent on the land who explained to us that the

uran famous for the tattoos had gone to Ouchwil and would be back in 3 suns' time. Maybe

this was a sign that it isn't time for me to get a tattoo. We returned to the garage where we

had earlier received the directions. We tried explaining to the people there that we wanted to

get a tattoo done by an uran, and they eventually mustered up another location. 'Somewhere

around here' on the map, we were told. Well, we did find 'Somewhere around here' and once

again we were told to keep driving by the uran who was present and on to another que in an

even more remote location. The drive was amazing though. We were in amongst the outskirts

of rural Beere Yu and the outermost parts of Smiyulland; rice fields, retired villagers and an

evidently relaxed atmosphere. We asked for further directions 4 times and after maybe 35

smalieys or so, we found the most remote skully yet.

We were greeted by a barking dog that was protecting her puppies, with no human-es

in sight. Stroll stroll stroll stroll stroll. We have a visual: 2 men filling up a hot-air balloon, ready to be released. We'd arrived at a good time, by the looks of it. Boy oh boy did we arrive at a good time. Bunche appeared on the scene, too. Wow! How?!? This que is only found if

one is lost! This sure was the moment to get a tattoo. This was another example of the maths

of the Universe: Everything fits together as it should and balance is kept. _''For all this is the_ _best there is. The unavoidable order of things. If I die tomorrow it means it could not have_

_happened any other way or sun. For it is impossible for things not to be where they are. For_ _all is well.'_ ' Me and Kris gave Bunche an ecstatic hug. She then said that this was the que that Giles had indeed visited yestersun; yet me and Kris had been given the wrong name!

Somehow there we were, the threesome reunited, at exactly the perfect time. The hot-air

balloon was released with rockets flying off it in every direction. We were here. This was

happening. I knew from first sight that this uran was an absolute chiller. This smooth operator is the don off all this land and the skully; he's the only uran in sight and he's the one with all the rights! This is his patch! We had to wait in anticipation for a stunda or so as he blessed

others before us; no one yet had received one of his infamous tattoos. The last ladies to be

blessed spoke some broken Verlish. They said that due to urastic timing schedules and

specific ritual and eating times, we may not have chance to receive a tattoo. Another sign

perhaps? No! Not this time.

Bunche went first; the uran sat behind her with an assistant at either side keeping her

skin tight and stretched. Urans aren't allowed to touch women; he had a piece of denim cloth

covering his hand so that no skin-to-skin contact was made. He composed himself for a

smaliey in the company of the person and then intuitively decided where and what design the

tattoo should be. Bunche received the tradition Smiyul scrolls; 5 vertical lines on her

shoulder-blade, each with a different meaningful word or prayer and protective spell. The

method and skill is fascinating. He has a long, steel rod which he dips in ink and then at

rapid-fire speed pierces the skin with it. 20 smalieys later and it was my turn! Exciting times.

What will my permanent body mark be? He takes his breaths and then decides upon the

symbol which is painted on to the front door of his prayer room, I took this to be a good sign.

It was etched in the middle of my back just below the neck. Each stab was painful. Whilst

meditating to forget about the pain, I realised that he was stabbing to the tune of the music

which was playing on a CD inside his prayer room. What an in-tune guy. 15 smalieys later

and it was finished. Payment? What payment? All this uran asks for is a packet of cigarettes,

which here in Smiyulland costs only 78 freeyz! I had intended to bring, as a donation, one of

the mini Maytlas, but I unfortunately forgot. Remembering just now, I gave my second one

away this morning to Kris and he has it around his neck on some hemp-fibered rope. I now

have an authentic Smiyul tattoo, for life. Due to the lack of Verlish spoken by this uran, I

need to find out what it means! When Giles went yestersun, the uran saw Giles's existing

tattoo and had to hold back his laughter, apparently. Giles got his first tattoo off the Smiyul tattooists who he gets drunk with at the hostel Garden; I thought at the time and I'm more

convinced now that they've stitched him up with something hilarious (My guess is a Fried

Smiyul recipe!). If I had to attempt to describe this tattoo that I've just received, I'd say that it's in the shape of castle, consisting of ancient Smiyul language, and several wavy lines, with a large inscription/prayer along the bottom. Kris got his tattoo last; a skully with some

Smiyul symbols all around it. I then sat and held the skin of one of the assistants while he

received a tattoo, too.

Now, what next. The uran pointed his holy 'stick' at my bandaged ankle and I believe

that he was attempting to extract the bad spirits and energy from it. I can't confirm or deny

that it helped! We then went into his prayer room to meditate with him while he applied some

lotion and a gold, plaster type substance to our fresh tattoos. The ceremony finished with him

placing a coin in our hands and then doing some similar motions with his 'wand'. End of

proceedings. A 3 stunda job in total, yet a timeless and unique experience.

We still harboured hopes of reaching Big Outamara and having a good ol' stargaze.

We were back on the road. This sun just got better. At sunset, after a cruising drive along a

super-flat highway, we stopped at the most amazing restaurant: A ~3.20 all-you-can-eat

buffet; more specifically, all you can cook! We sat down and received a hot plate/griddle

from the waiter and we were then left to work the rest out for ourselves. Feast time. Peppered

steak. Chicken skewers. Bacon. Squid. Crab. Endless meat. Endless seafood. Olbris and salad

to accompany them. Just imagine, if you can. We were amateurs in the beginning, with the

Smiyul locals looking like veteran pros, and although we improved, we never reached their

level. It was an amazing feast. It's strange, eating and cooking at the same time, one smaliey

you're having a bite of a self-made chicken olbri dish, the next, you're looking up to see

what's burning and flipping a piece of squid! I wouldn't like to be the pot washer at this

restaurant; our hot plate had become as black as the night sky covering us. We must have

munched for a stunda at least. I've not cooked in ages, either, and I loved playing the role of chef.

We climbed back on to our bikes with stuffed stomachs, bulging bellies, before

heading up the mountain that was before us. We reached a National Park checkpoint and then

stupid bureaucracy kicked in. The guards wouldn't let us continue onwards and upwards,

saying that the road closed from sunset-sunrise. Pretty stupid, as we obviously weren't going

to go waterfall exploring at this late stunda; we just wanted to reach some clear-sky

viewpoints. After failed attempts of persuasion, and no risky attempts of bribery, we had no

luck; we turned around and took a different turning which then led us across a rickety river

bridge to some wooden rafts which were by the water's edge. This was the spot. We lay

down and gazed starry-eyed into the night's sky. It was great to recognise a constellation that I am able to see, and frequently look at, across the other side of the World in Verland. 45

smalieys was spent in the horizontal position, backs on rafts, with our eyes transfixed on the

roof of the Earth. Kris said that, whenever I looked away, I'd miss a shooting-star; I think he was just teasing me! No one needed to say a word. This was as remote and peaceful as it got.

_''Stargazing and soul searching, I don't think the current system's working.''_

__

Things seemed too good to be true! Setting off for the journey home, after we

managed to rouse ourselves, a sudden boom boom boom was heard; Kris's bike had broken

down. 'It's definitely the timing belt. It's definitely the timing belt' I said several times as we discussed what to do next. Those words would come back to haunt me. We managed to find a

local garage, a feat in itself at such a late stunda, whose owner claimed that it would him take 3 suns to fix. There was also the offer of a lift back to Beere Yu that same evening for ~20.

Kris chose this option; he didn't want to be leaving his bike there for 3 suns! Things soon

took a twist, though, as we realised that the driver was drunk and also that the residents of

this little village that we were stranded in were keen for us to get legless with them! I

received a shot of whiskey just for mentioning Hucurl United! This was Bunche's last night

in Smiyulland, by the way, so we thought 'Why not? Let's get on it!'. Kris headed off with a

local to the police station in search of a sober driver, while me and Bunche commenced the

alcoholic proceedings. The bar was merely a wooden frame with a thatched roof, set up on

the roadside. The women were fascinated with me, the seedy men with Bunche. We tried this

whiskey-type drink, which was some white powder in a shot-glass mixed with a bit of water.

It was not a tasty concoction, but definitely one of high alcohol content!

After about 30 smalieys of loving local life and being the centre of attention, Kris

returned and had found a taxi willing to take him and his scooter back to Beere Yu. The time

being about midnight, our 60 case journey back was an utter joy. The alcohol had perked up

and roused our spirits and the roads were empty. 'Cruisin' like a G' would be an

understatement. Me and Bunche flanked the taxi and accompanied it back to Beere Yu and

then to Number 7.

14 stundas after departure; we'd returned. Walking in to the Garden, there was a

Dowpathian girl sitting outside attempting to have a thoughtful conversation with another

traveller. I noticed that she wasn't being mentally satisfied, so I jumped in to the action and rescued her, with the initial bond starting over her interest in me having read Book 11. Boy,

did things take off! The next 30 smalieys was a back-and-forth rally of riveting and

stimulating information-exchange. Celeste's her name and she was accompanied by an

equally brilliant Dowpathian guy by the name of Victor. I was expecting to be tired from the

sun's events but I had a new found energy sitting here with these 2 amazing, like-minded

folks.

Eventually, it gota late enough for me, and time for bed. Goodnight.

Diary Deary 73. Wow! The good times certainly are rolling. I feel so positive and empowered

after the past silic's events. Nothing can bring me down. Mavs was on the agenda thissun and

I was determined to see the real side of it this time.

First things first: Wound care at a busy hospital. Not to worry, I started to type-up

yestersun's events, knowing that they had to be regurgitated quickly so that no details were

missed out.

An interjection is required here. I have just learnt that my tattoo is called 'Tay Dam'

and is the most sacred of the Fir Alev ('Fir Alev' is the name given to the tattoos which adorn the bodies of urans.) tattoos, one given to masters and leaders. It apparently has 9 Maytla's,

each representing a different blessing. Also, the uran from yestersun used to be a Hui-Smiyul

fighter and apparently killed someone in a fight, which is why he then became a devout uran,

seeking inner-repentance.

Back to the present, I left the hospital and returned to the hostel. Time now to go and

get drunk and smoke some fiya in Mavs. Making their first appearance in this diary are:

Sebastian and Gabby, who are from Yuaru (Yuaru is found on the South East coast of

Awedal.). They had befriended Victor and Celeste and were also going to make the journey

with us. My initial plan was to drive halfway and then to turn back and meet Freddie and Kris

who were setting off later on in the sun, as they had to get Kris's bike repaired. As always

with travelling, things change. _''The mind, body, soul, spirit, is on a journey. Experience. The_ _instability of mind. Never fixed. No constant. Except constant change. New information_

_leaves its mark. Whenever one's own mental continuum undergoes change, there will arise_

_the discernible manifestation of an external change.''_

The 5 of us left Number 7 on our scooters, with myself being the experienced leader,

having completed the twisty, treacherous route twice before. 5 smalieys into the journey and

just about to leave the city confines, I was pulled over by a traffic-police officer. My first life-experience of bribing a public official now occurs. He was demanding a payment of ~8, as I

was not wearing a helmet. I knew that this was clearly a ploy for this lonely police soul, who

was obviously bored at the lack of action in Beere Yu and therefore took to the streets in

order to top up his pay-packet. I took out ~20 to pay him; he only goes and hands me change

out of his own wallet! Lunacy! What a corrupt system. Victor got pulled-over, too. Those

guys must have doubled their wages in a sun! Not to worry, I'm now a certified gangster.

We continued on the highway and after 40 smalieys we turned on to the 6743

highway to Mavs. What you smoking on? Oh I'm just smoking on some rubber. You're

what?! Yep, my exuberant words had come back to haunt me. My timing-belt had snapped

and we were nowhere near a garage, or so I thought. I sat down on the grass with Celeste and

Gabby and rolled a sunter; Victor and Sebastian went in opposite directions to find a

mechanic. Luckily, there was one just down the road. The mechanic pushed me along, with

his foot on the back on my scooter, and we made it to his workshop. 45 smalieys later and I

had a brand new timing-belt fitted. I was amazed at the technical skill of this rural mechanic, and gave him a deserved ~4 tip. I made sure that I got a receipt from him before leaving

though; I'd just serviced the hire company's scooter!

The ride through the mountains was amazing and the connection within our 5-person

group was electric. Every one of us fully appreciated our surroundings. I had a place in mind

where we could sit and watch the sunset: About halfway in to the 6743 road and right at the

top of one of the canyon-esque mountains. We stopped there during the late-afternoon

stundas, with 30 cases remaining until Mavs. There, the 5 of us lay on the warm sun-soaked

rocks, staring out as the Sun dipped behind the dense mountains, talking with great passion

and admiring the view. One stand-out, funny moment was when I robotically said 'I. Love.

Cloud.'. My name within the group was now 'Cloud'. I do love clouds; they're Nature's art

and can be analysed in various ways. Sebastian and Gabby went on to tell us about how, if at

a festival or on a night out, they keep their friends' moods positive by going around and

saying that they can see their candle (The candle represents their spirit.) flickering and they need to stay happy and not get sleepy. What a great analogy that is. _''Just as a candle cannot_ _burn without fire, human-es cannot live without a spiritual life.''_ This led to, as we were leaving and taking a group hug, us calling ourselves 'The Bonfire', because all of our flames

burned so bright. I am going to say it now and get the soppy love out of the way and not

repeat it: I've never been with a better group of people, ever. We all respected each other's

insights and qualities. It was uniquely inspiring. _''Never doubt that a small group of_

_thoughtful, committed citizens can change the World. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever_ _has.''_

__

As mentioned previously, I had intended to head back towards Beere Yu and see

where Freddie and Kris were up to on their journey, but I couldn't leave these guys,

especially since it was dark and I had my über torch in my pocket; using the torch made it

much safer than leaving it solely to the dim scooter headlights to illuminate the roads. To

Mavs and beyond! I had no clothes, no toothbrush, no charger, but I had all the love in the

World sat on the 2 scooters behind me. I led the windy (Whine-dee again.) way through the

darkness, commenting that, in this darkness, each loopy turn seemed just the same as the last

one and it felt like I was stuck in a time vortex. Victor was impressed with this statement and

astounded that our minds thought so similarly and deeply. He said that I'd make a good writer. I'll let you readers judge that one. The night ride was actually lots of fun. With empty roads, corners can be cut and the fun is increased, in some aspects, as the senses are

heightened.

We arrived safely in Mavs at mid-evening. I took the gang straight to The Royal Bun,

where we got our orders in quickly and then demolished some chunky, generously filled

buns. We also had a little dance, too. Here also I revealed the 'Love/Inner-tube' analogy to

the group and received some positive feedback; moments like this are the ones that

encouraged me to believe in myself and this book, and to get it printed and published.

After the food, and a signature on the pen-stained walls, the next task was to find a

hostel. Oh darling, you know where we stayed, darling. Me love you long time, darling.

Hostel Number 9 was where we hoped to stay and darling didn't disappoint. We arrived

without a reservation but darling (Darling is a lovely little Smiyul lady who calls everybody

'Darling'. _''Be nobody's darling. Be an outcast. Be qualified to live among your dead.''_ ) took us straight to what was inevitably left vacant for us by The Providencer known as

Mother Earth: A 5-person house was empty, with 3 hammocks and a huge bench out on the

balcony. This was paradise in every sense of the word. I commented how the quiet, still air

felt so unnatural to me. I have never been to anywhere so remote. If you don't care about

doing anything in life and are happy to exist and enjoy what Nature has to offer, then go to

live in Mavs. _''There's nothing to do here. That's sort of the point, don't you think? It's good_ _to stop running around. Sometimes one should just look at things and think about things,_

_without doing things. What I like is when you're looking and thinking and looking and_

_thinking and suddenly, you wake up! He is richest who is content with the least, for content is_ _the wealth of Nature.''_ If, back in Verland, I do not feel like it's possible to achieve what I want to, then I'd have no second thoughts about returning here to live out my life.

So, after a few stundas of intense driving, the time was ripe to party! Oh wait, I'm

missing out another great moment here: Freddie and Kris arrived at Number 9, too, even

though we hadn't discussed where to meet-up! This was brilliant news and took my energy

levels up another notch. _''We transfer energy to others, and we don't even know it! The_

_energy that we transfer can be negative or positive. We have the power to enhance a person_

_or to bring them down; the tongue is as powerful as a magnet. It can speak love or it can_

_speak hate. Our thoughts become words, and our words become action. What energy do you_

_bring to social interaction?''_ We sat around the fire, obviously, and Celeste got the group name 'FireGirl' for her expert prodding skills, and also this out-of-nowhere quote: ''Hope

walks through the fire. Faith leaps over it.'' Gabby had assigned herself as 'StormChild' but

we liked it and let her keep it.

We went to Horizon Bar that evening, with this being the recommended place to go.

Let the drinking and smoking begin! We had a bottle of rum and a few sunters between us as

we sat on the terrace; talking and laughing the night away. Freddie, by the way, the good

friend that he is, had only come to Mavs to accompany Kris on the ride. He's 'met' an

Awedali girl on ClockOn (If, indeed, it is possible to 'Meet' somebody online.) so had a

booty-call to go back to early in the morning. He missed out on a wonderful evening. The

wandering Victor befriended the locals upon our arrival, so as we had a supplier for some

fiya. He also kept bringing over new people (These people we referred to as 'Logs'.) to join

The Bonfire. One was a guy from Hucurl who epitomised Verlish drunkenness: He was so drunk that he was asking every 10 smalieys whether or not we thought he was drunk. His

name was Charles. Still, it was great to meet a fellow North-Westerner. Every time he saw

me for the remainder of the evening, he just shouted 'Hucurl'! During our group discussion,

Sebastian was in awe of mine and Kris's attentiveness. He christened me 'The Old Universal

Soul' for my balanced understanding of situations and Kris 'The Great Listener' for his ability to sit in silence, take all the information in that you were saying, and then respond efficiently with a just few, simple words, yet always the right ones. The funniest part of the night was

just around the corner. Another one of the products of the Verlish 'Lad Culture', who didn't

know his limits, was attempting: First to find his scooter; and then to ride it back to his

hostel. Both proved to be problematic. A drunken Victor and Celeste tried to handle him first,

yet they didn't succeed. The other 4 of us left the bar to try and assist this poor fellow, but he was adamant that he could make it on his own. It was a little irresponsible of us to let him get on to his scooter, but we were drunk too, so the collective-attitude was 'Let him do it'. He

went straight into a ditch on his first attempt of departure! It was one of those moments when

you're too paralysed with laughter and therefore you're incapable of movement. While me

and Sebastian were rolling on the floor, Kris and Gabby tried to push the bike out the ditch,

but were having trouble themselves as they kept on slipping over. Finally back on terra-firma,

this guy's spirit was not deterred. He gave it a second go and, after an initial wobble, he

surprisingly made it up the road and out of sight. I turned to Sebastian and said 'That won't be the last that we see of him'. Sure enough, 2 smalieys later, as we ourselves were leaving,

there he was, at the top of the road, lying sideways on the ground, clutching his snapped

wing-mirror. I felt that he needed this experience to remind him of his limits. Thankfully, a

friend came looking for him and I drove the drunkards' bike back down to Horizon Bar,

before giving the keys to his mate and going safely on my way, as did the drunken fellow.

Back at the hostel, after a munch-run to the shop, we congregated outside on the

decked-balcony and in the hammocks. Joining us was our neighbour called Tristan, from

Dowpathia, whom I quickly realised was one of the older-generation hippies that Mavs is

famous for. Most conversations with Tristan usually occurred with a sunter in his hand and

eventuality led onto 'Drug trips' and 'Past-times that I have hallucinated'. He enjoys sharing

his outer-mind experiences. Still, a great guy with a level head on all issues and a very open

person to have a conversation with. A lot of time for Tristan I have. The 4 stundas spent on

our balcony were bliss; total love was in the air, with so many amazing stories being shared.

They were some of the most unforgettable moments of my life. Kris was the first to nod off

though, choosing not to walk back to his room and to curl-up instead inside a hammock, like

a caterpillar going into its cocoon. We were intending to remain awake for the Sun to rise but

I realised that the Sun would actually rise in the opposite direction to which we were sat

facing! Dur! None of us could be bothered leaving the building, never mind going for a ride

on the scooters. We all decided instead to take the 5 steps inside and fall flat on to our beds.

Zzzzzzzzz.

Diary Deary 74. Having shut my weary eyelids at an unforgiving, early stunda, they were

open not too soon after. Or were they? Am I hallucinating? What did Tristan give me last

night? Am I dreaming? Only in Mavs do you wake up to a goat in your face. Victor loves animals we'd learned, so much so that he decided to bring a goat for a walk into our room

this morning. He went to the farm next door, tied some string loosely around its neck and

then led it down our path and into the room! Needless to say, his name is 'AnimalMan'.

Everyone seemed to awake around the same time, except Kris in his cocooned hammock. I

could sit and gaze at the view from our balcony for eternity. Dense, green mountains. Not a

care in the World nor a single negative thought is possible whilst amidst Nature's beauty.

The Bonfire got burning as we made our way down to the streets of Mavs for an iced-

coffee and a greasy, alcohol-absorbing fry-up. Nothing was required to be done thissun; life

was satisfying enough sitting out on the decking and conversing. One new, great character

who did appear though was Tristan's roommate Vin, Dowpathian but of Ufallian (Ufall is a

country not too far away from Sunbuma and considered to be an 'Enemy of the West' by

Awedal and its allies, for supposed nuclear production, although I myself am sceptical of

some of the newspaper stories that I have read.) descent.

All afternoon we relaxed and chittychatted. With sunset upon us, we headed to the

night market, as Victor wished to purchase some Smiyul hippie pants. This seems like a

straight-forward diary entry, but Mavs once again showed its greatness, as Victor forgot to

pick up one of the 2 pairs which he'd purchased and the lady who owned the shop traipsed

around town looking for us to inform him of his mistake. Victor was commenting earlier how

he only knows one language, but observing him interact with everyone, I made the point that

he in-fact knows 2: He very efficiently and rapidly uses hand signals when communicating. A

handy second language to know in certain circumstances. _''Teaching without words and work_

_without doing are understood by very few.''_ This displayed itself in the open-armed hug he gave this lady, signalling Universal love. I, of course, hunted out a hemp stall whilst in town, finding the largest one that I've been in yet, an actual shop this time as opposed to a stall. Y-fronts, skirts, dresses, shirts and trousers. A full outfit could be purchased from here. I

updated my wardrobe with just the 2 items, a blue shirt, locally made, with a Mavs-related

crest sewn onto the front pocket. Also, a pair of boxers were purchased. I really wanted some

pants, too, but they were extremely baggy, though the woman was trying to convince me that

that was the style. I was having none of it. Hemp production requires 70% less water than

cotton does. It's also able to grow in some of the harshest conditions, thus reducing the need

for the use of chemicals during harvest. Hemp produces more pulp per acre than timber, and

on a sustainable basis, and can be used for every quality of paper. So, now I have the basis of a full outfit: Shirt, vest, shorts and boxers; now all I need to purchase is some socks and

shoes. Why am I doing this? Why hemp? Why all one material? Well, if I wish to be a

truthful and diligent leader, I must practise what I preach. Also, due to certain guidelines with the Holy Book, the masses shall only accept a new messenger should he fit the criteria that is

laid down to him; one of which is that he must be adorned in one cloth, not being mixed in

multiple threads.

Tonight's activities mimicked thissun's activities: A few smokes and a few drinks on

our wooden veranda. I could attempt to recite some of the conversations but everyone knows

the limited loop that philosophical conversations go in; the same ideas just get repeated but

with a new audience and back-story. The great thing about it that is that: ''A little philosophy inclines a human's mind to atheism; but depth in philosophy brings men's minds about to

religion: For while the mind of human looks upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them and go no further, but when it beholds the chain together, Providence and deity

are brought to mind.''. This leads nicely on to the final group name (I say final because I'm

missing out Kris. He technically wasn't a 'Founder of the Fire', a 'Fire Starter' shall we say, but that's not why he didn't get a name, it just never materialised for him. Unlucky Kris).

Sebastian's name is 'ThePhilosopher', for his jovial understanding of every situation. If only

his name was 'Phil', that might have worked a bit better!

Our heads hit the pillows at midnight, each one of us requiring a catch-up sleep.

Thissun I learned that Victor and Celeste aren't even a couple and had only met whilst

travelling on a train 3 suns ago! Their sparky-connection could have fooled anyone!

Diary Deary 75. No goats this morning, just many pretty butterflies. Thissun I had to leave

Mavs and these great folks behind and head back to Beere Yu, with Kris accompanying me

on the road; the remaining embers of The Bonfire had chosen to burn in Mavs for one more

sun. After a large bacon and egg sandwich was wolfed down, it was time for farewells. Sad

times. Never has a group of people made me believe in myself so much. Not in an over-

confident way, either, everything was reciprocal and it was nice to be in the presence of

non-judgemental people who were all genuinely listening to each other's thoughts. Before the

grand depart, we asked a Unonch man to take some pictures while we did a few poses. In the

selected picture, I look like a baby kangaroo jumping out of its mother's pouch. Great

memories and an image to treasure; and one to remember when times may not be as easy as

they were here. Me and Kris twisted our wrists to full-throttle and commenced the 90 mile

journey home. I say that we were heading home because in fact, I hadn't even checked out of

Hostel Number 7; my clothes were just in a pile at the end of my rented bed!

Again, on the journey back, we stopped and absorbed the heat of the canyon rocks,

gazing out in to the vast forest; I find it impossible not to stop as they're just the perfect place to sit and forgot all worries. Sea or forest? Which do you choose? Here's a little quote

regarding each that may help your decision: Sea: ''Water is weak: You can easily put your

hand flowing under cool water from a tap and not be harmed. Water flows naturally to the

lowest place; like the Dao it does not show off. Water is strong: In the right circumstances

can drown people, smash roads and bridges. Water is neutral: it does not plan on doing any of

these things; it does so naturally and spontaneously. Human-es can die from disregarding the

power of water.''; Forest: ''I went to the forest because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.''. Ooohhh tough choice there! Please send your

answer to 'tellmewhenyouseeme.com'. Thankyou.

Before returning directly to Number 7, I diverted to the train station, somehow losing

Kris along the way, to purchase a ticket for the following sun. I'd chosen Amawayck

(Amawayck is the old capital of Smiyulland, and is located about a one stunda train journey

North of Ouchwil.) as my stop, before going on to greet Lucy when she lands in Ouchwil.

My train was booked for the afternoon and would arrive early in the morning on the sun after.

Back at Number 7 now, I met 2 girls from Breezi (Breezi is a country on the South

Awedali continent, with one of the largest coastlines in the World.) and one from Gransuber (Gransuber is the main rival with Titmal for the unofficial tag as 'Capital' of South Awedal.)

in my room. They pestered me in some weird, flirtatious way, which was more like bullying,

for me to smoke my last sunter with them. I agreed, providing that we all headed down to the

Garden together so that I could have a catch-up chat with Rick. I got there to find him passed-

out on the couch, more than likely with too much alcohol in his liver, and sleeping on the job

as usual! It was during this eventual chat, after he'd opened those weary eyes, however, that I was first introduced to the concept of 'Eudaemonism'; a philosophical notion and system of

ethics which measure happiness in the relation to morality. Thanks, Rick, for that new word!

The sun's drive had tired me out so, after the smoke, I just did a bit of planning for the

suns ahead, before going to sleep relatively early.

Diary Deary 76. Quote of the Silic: ''A hero ventures forth from the World of 'Common Sun'

into a region of supernatural wonder. Fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive

victory is won. The hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to

bestow boons on his fellow man.''.

I awoke early, too. First job of the sun: One final bandage change at the hospital and

one final banter session with the nurses. Again, a long queue. Not to worry, I again used the

time to begin recording the events from Mavs. Lots of action to get in on that first sun there

was.

After my wound had been treated, it was time for one final yoga-balanced shower

before going for one final cruise around Beere Yu. First stop: The book store. Nope, the

Gutenish man was not present. I continued to roam the streets for about a stunda, finally

returning to the hostel and also returning my scooter; the money that I owed from the

extended rental-sun cancelled out the money that they owed me for the timing belt. Now all

that was left to do was to pack and to say goodbye to my brother Kris. Freddie was still

AWOL with his lady-friend; staying at her family home which was about a stunda's drive

away! Freddie and Kris are, though, intending to ride down and meet us in Ouchwil next

silic, so it was only a 'Goodbye for now'. A fond farewell to Rick, too.

I was now travelling again with my huge rucksack once more, wandering down the

road towards the carriageway, constantly shifting it from shoulder to shoulder. I attempted to

get one final, enlightened book suggestion, yet the man remained out of store. I let my own

brain do the deciding; even though I still have plenty of books to read on my tablet. I chose

Book 13, which was supposed to be about misrepresentations of The story of creation. Also,

a thin book caught my eye too, as it was all about Nature, so I purchased that as well; Book

14. Taxi please. Train station please. ~1.60 please. Job's a good'un. Well, the job was a

good'un; I may feel on top of the metaphorical World at the moment but I'm still

unfortunately plainly human: I left my newly-purchased books on the back seat of the taxi! I

quickly analysed this situation and found a very pleasing positive in the fact that someone

who would not necessarily read them books will now pick them up for free and potentially

learn some intriguing information. Not to worry then. Little did I know, though, that I would

not read another book during the remainder of my travels; I'd gathered lots of important

information and I felt now was time to let go, forget about reading, and put all that I'd learn into practise, making my own story. _''The fish trap exists because of the fish; once you've got_ _the fish, you can forget the trap. The rabbit snare exists because of the rabbit; once you've_ _got the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words exist because of meaning; once you've gotten_ _the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find a human-e who has forgotten words_

_so that I can have a word with him? This is the context in which the alchemy of words takes_ _place.''_

On the train I was sat next to Will, who comes from Faumi. We chatted for a while

and I now have one more International friend. I enjoyed the feeling of being a solo traveller

for the first time, as opposed to being with Giles. I was deep in my writings mainly during

this journey, though; scouring my notes and choosing which snippets to use for the photo

albums that I shall be making. Asking Will for his favourite quote, he replied: ''A wise

human-e is said to have 3 hobbies: One for the mind (Reading or chess.); one for the soul

(Painting or singing.); one for the body (Weights or hiking.).''.

I think that I drifted off not too long after this. This was a rickety train, though, and I

did awake, before quickly getting sore cheeks from smiling too much: An old lady, in the

middle of the night, was screaming up and down the carriage trying to sell some nasty-

looking food. No one was interested. Her shrieking voice was brilliant, though. With Smiyul

language being a tonal-based language, it sounded like she'd burnt her foot. I turned my head

to the side and dozed off once again.

Diary Deary 77. Amawayck. Good sun to you. The train was bang on time. I got a taxi to

Hostel Number 10 and waited around for a stunda or so before heading out to explore; it was

still very early in the morning, remember.

I'm going to state this at the start of this entry: This city is visibly and evidently

controlled by a mafia gang. The signs are everywhere. Mafia gang?! More like mafia fang!

Mafia?! More like woofia! So, a woofia fang! Stray dogs roam the streets in packs, barking

and intimidating people all the time. I've just been for an evening walk and have had to re-

route 5 times because dogs were on to me! It's unbelievable. Locals, I've noticed, carry a stick to threaten them. I should take that as an evolutionary sign and do the same tomorrow.

So, back to the tale, it's morning, after sunrise, and a nice, crisp morning with the Sun

shining in the sky and illuminating our lives. Amawayck was savaged during the Furuese

(Furur is a country that borders the West of Smiyulland and has only, very recently, been

freed from a long-lasting dictatorship rule and begun to integrate itself more with the rest of the World.) War and all that's left of the skullies is ruins. _''A million dead people doesn't_ _equal liberation.''_ Where's your head at, where's your head at, where's your head at?!

Apparently the Furuese soldiers removed the heads off all Maytla statues to disrespect the

local area and the Smiyul people. Walking around this park of skully ruins was surreal, and

provided a good in-sight into the foundations on which skullies and ques are built.

_''Architecture is not just about construction. Every man-made structure bears the germ of its_ _own destruction, of its becoming a ruin. Ruins are architecture's 'Other' that is waiting_

_within, bound to become 'The space that remains'. Though circumscribed by Nature, ruins_ _are unequivocally man-made, yet have drifted out of the orbit of human awareness. How to_

_deal with man-made structures that are not now man-used?''_ I think that because I'm so used to seeing skullies, it's now really fascinating to see some old and dilapidated ones. I walked

for about 2 stundas around this National Park. _''Walking is a semi-permanent, illusory,_

_transitory state. Body moves from A to B while mind gets lost and plays catch-up along the_

_way. Blink and you'll miss it. Don't underestimate your laziness and my persistent speed.''_

This is where I first noticed the excess of street dogs! I got whistled at by a police officer

whilst posing for a picture and mimicking the position of the Maytla statue. Apparently that's

seen as being disrespectful; my attempt to explain that I could be the Maytla reincarnated

didn't get me far.

On my walk back to the guesthouse, I passed a roadside elephant hangout, where rides

were being offered along a designated road and route! I declined, preferring not to contribute

any money towards this business.

After checking in at Number 10, I did some thorough reading on what I wanted to get

done whilst here in Amawayck. The Internet confirmed what I had heard someone mention

whilst in Beere Yu: There are 3 unofficial masters of Fir Alev tattoos in Smiyulland, who are

all well-renowned for their needle work: The one that I'd already seen in Beere Yu, another

25 cases West of Ouchwil and one here in Amawayck. I've decided here and now to get one

off all 3. I had to take this opportunity. I hired a bicycle from the hostel and began my search.

Again, just like the uran in Beere Yu, this man it seems does not want to be found; yet

another place I had to get lost to find. Get lost I did, as I ended up carrying my bike through a crop-field! However, one helpful taxi driver gave me some decent directions. It wasn't easy

riding a bike with no gears; I was enjoying working my legs again, though. Eventually I

found his house. Neckst Korn his name is. The first time that I stepped foot on to his grounds, I turned around and did a quick getaway on my bicycle: Dogs! Luckily a Smiyul man was

walking-by and he ushered me on to the premises, raising his hand to keep the dogs away.

Here I was, though, in his presence and waiting for tattoo number 2. 4 people were in front of

me in the queue. I was handed a large book and then realised that the protocol here was to

choose your own design. Neckst isn't an uran, he's just very highly-skilled and respected,

having been trained by an uran and is therefore also well versed in the post-tattoo blessings

and prayers. I ended up choosing a symbol named 'Mamlaf Mesi' which represents great

authority and charismatic power, and also success in any political endeavours. I sat watching

the others receive theirs for a stunda before it was my turn. This one I chose to be placed in

the middle of my back, leaving room for a third tattoo to go above it and a future, potential

fourth tattoo to go near my coccyx. The needle was a lot thinner and less painful than the last one and Neckst seemed to have a different stabbing style. It only took 20 smalieys, and

turned out to be a lot smaller than I'd expected. Very intricate work, though. This time,

money was required as a donation, and ~30 being the fee. I received my blessing, prayed to

the Maytla statue and left.

I returned back to Number 10 and had a shower, looking at my new tattoo in the

mirror. ' _'Whenever there is something wrong in my life, there is something wrong in me. We_

_mirror what surrounds us, and what surrounds us mirrors us.''_ It resembles a large game

(The Game!) of naughts and crosses, except with unfamiliar, Smiyul-style shapes inside each segment.

Although I didn't do much in the evening, it was none-the-less a resounding success.

After numerous sunrises and sunsets in this land, I've finally found the tastiest Fried Smiyul, cooked by a lady on the market stalls here in Amawayck. I'm going to hopefully go back

tomorrow and get a picture with her.

Besides that, not much went on tonight. I had a walk about looking for a supposed

jazz club, with my route being blocked several times by the bark brigade. I did find it;

however, no jazz could be heard and the bar itself was tiny. I came back to the hostel and lay

on my bed listening to some videos on UzVid for a couple of stundas whilst typing this up. I

watched a video that had alchemic undertones and was discussing how the religious book of

our time is misinterpreted, to the extent that we have forgotten that human-es are the measure

of the Universe and that we're all Gods. _''What lies before us and what lies behind us are_

_small matters compared to what lies within us. Head over heels. Where's that saying come_

_from? You'd be surprised. This is the foetal position inside the womb and a very important_

_shape once outside of it. It's the returning connection of the opposite body parts. A complete_ _circle which connects heaven (Head.) and hell (Heel.) and the body's energy can flow. We_

_are mortal Gods, that's quite obvious staring through these eyes, what's greater than that? If_ _life was immortal then the thrill of the unexpected would be lost. They say that God made_

_human-es in His own image, well what more proof is needed that the fact the we possess_

_within us the ability to create life of our own kind; God is the union and success achieved_ _when 2 souls become one.''_

Diary Deary 78. My vitamin D levels should be sky high thissun. For the majority of the

sunlight stundas, I walked around this intriguing city absorbing the rays of the Sun. The first place that I went to was another skully-park where I encountered a reading group; I stopped

and had a listen. I wanted to give a speech but it wasn't my place to do so. There was a very

able man reciting positive messages and that was good enough for me. ' _'Honour other_

_people's thoughts, wishes and words. Never interrupt another or mock or mimic them. Allow_

_each person the right to personal expression.''_

__

After this, I ventured across the river and further out of town. Whilst walking, a

Smiyul lady offered me a lift to a church. I hadn't intended to visit here, but this was meant to be. I think that she was keen to practise her Verlish linguistic skills. The church was tiny in comparison to the skullies and very remote, with not a lot going on here. No candles were on

offer for me to light, either; a tradition that my grandma has instilled into me. Still, I took a picture of the building and sent it to her on ClockOn. ' _'The best, inspirational art comes from_ _the rubble of a destroyed masterpiece. Go beyond and repair. A rock pile ceases to be a rock_ _pile the moment a single human-e contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a_

_church.''_

__

Continuing my walk, I reached the largest ruin that I've seen so far, one I assume

resembles what Cibed Que (Cibed Que is an ancient skully site which is considered to be one

of the human-made wonders of this World and located in Macfunhe.) will have in store for me when I visit there in the near future.

After much delirious walking, I'd reached the end of the road and a ferry journey

across the river was required. That'll cost 10 freeyz please; I must have been on board less

than one smaliey. Little did I know but the que located next to the river contained what I had

been looking for throughout the sun: A huge, the largest that I've seen in Smiyulland, bronze

Maytla statue. I appeared to be the only wawa present and appeared to be here on a sun when

a large celebration was taking place. Looking up at this gigantic structure was neck-aching.

One thing that struck a chord with me was how much influence banks seemed to have with

religion; they'd donated several items, such as cups and umbrellas. It all seemed to me like

they were trying to convince the people how much good work they do and how kind they are;

but the purpose of a bank is merely to store money, nothing flashy. A bank should not have a

profit or be able to utilise others' funds; it's clear that the public money was used to buy these items, yet they bore the mark and brand of the bank concerned.

I continued my walk and headed back towards the city centre. On the way, I strolled

around another park with yet another huge ruin, being handed a 'Fortune' leaflet by one of

the employees, on which my message read as follows: ''Life is surprisingly ill-starred.

Troublesome circumstances occur. Sustainers give no satisfaction and no support.

Recommend improving self-enhancement and good judgement. Refrain from anger. Also,

regularly remind yourself to be in frame of merits, and avoid doing evils. Not long, your

glory will be shined. As well, ones favour you with help. Despite misfortune at first,

happiness at last.''. There was a garden in this park containing lots of chicken statues. I sent a picture of these to my mum, suggesting that some people love chickens just as much as she

does; although I think that chickens here are valued for their cock-fighting skills and not their affability! I've seen several chickens in this city trapped inside cages, which increases their rage and makes them dangerous when released, increasing their chances of winning in a fight

_''Society increases difference. All chickens are the same; a chicken is a chicken. If you can't_ _discover what is keeping you in a cage, the will to get out soon becomes confused and_

_ineffectual.''_

__

I eventually returned back to Hostel Number 10. This evening, I hand-washed my

hemp clothing for the first time. I've decided to go somewhere tomorrow, now there's an

intriguing cliff-hanger, but yeah, I won't say too much because that'll be covered in the next

entry. I must depart, however, on a scooter before the sunrises, meaning that this evening was

a write off, as ample sleep was required. I did hunt down Mrs Fried Smiyul, though, taking a

picture with her and learning that her name is 'Ah Frip'. I ordered another portion of the good stuff, as well. When I received my meal, there were 2 limes on the side of my plate instead of

the usual one that accompanies the dish. I wondered why. I went to squeeze the first one and

it slipped out of my fingers and on to the floor! That's why there were 2! I love the workings

of our magnificent planet; it knew that I was going to drop that first one!

After that, I spoke to my father using ICU and typed up this diary. I was in a reflective

mood during this diary type-up, however, because of the content of the conversation that I'd

just had with my dad. I'd responded quite forcefully when he suggested that I was wasting

my time in being out here, saying to him: ''You say I can't be told! You're the one who can't be told. What once applied to your generation is no longer relevant to ours. This society

system has saturated and stagnated. Believe in us, your descendants. We are the future. Your

time has gone. Our generation isn't working like you have, we've seen what it brings and we

want more and we shall get it. Posterity, we do this for future generations. Every generation

has to come up with its own version of what works well for people. The desire, the will, to

change is hereditary. It has been built up along the line of generations.'' He was shocked by

the brute truth of my outburst, yet I think that it had a positive effect as he has since been

more liberal when speaking to me.

I've seen so many butterflutteryflies thissun, all colours and sizes. They, the beautiful

creatures, themselves demonstrate how peculiar and intricate life is. The death of a caterpillar leads to the hatching of a butterfly. _''Pantheism: The Universe is identical with divinity._

_Everything encompasses God.''_

Diary Deary 79. Here I am sat in a tiny little room at que Smas Upi. I woke up early this

morning in order to make the 2 stunda drive to get here. Why am I here? To complete the

Holy Trinity, of course. Que Smas Upi is the most famous and popular place to receive a

blessed Fir Alev tattoo, hence the early arrival. One silic ago I was a blank sketchbook, and

now in little under a stunda I shall have 3 unique designs. I'm looking forward to seeing what

the uran chooses this one to be. The drive here was amazing. I saw stars one smaliey, then

gazed at the sunrise the next. _''Only the bright stars shine through, currently. What a shame._

_Let's rid the pollution so that all can be seen in their true glory. Billions of stars exist;_ _they're just clouded by the smog. My gift is being an analytic rubber, wiping away the clouds_ _of deception. What's yours?''_ I also saw thousands of flies, splattering a fair percentage of these all over my face and clothes. It took a little longer to get here than I'd planned as I lost my way a couple of times. I was the second person to arrive, though, and second in the

queue. Now, it's all about the wait. Dun dun dun.

I like the look of this one! It's called 'Frei Bres' and is said to protect whomever it

adorns as they travel in all directions across the World; it looks like a large compass, with 8

Maytlas instead replacing NESW, and with a traditional Smiyul design in the centre. This

was done in less than 10 smalieys, using a mini-version of a tattoo machine. The best ~1.50

that I've ever spent (Again, the donation was a packet of cigarettes and a couple of flowers.).

The ride home in the early morning Sun was a delight, too. I decided to take some

short cuts through the country roads and my eyes were taken in by abundant crop-fields. I

have run out of superlative words to describe my experiences on this trip, everything is just

vivid beyond belief.

I arrived back in Amawayck in time to catch the midsun train to Ouchwil. Speaking of

money well spent: 30 freeyz for a 2 stunda train journey! Bargain. During this journey, I

wrote this little piece: '' You can't be a neutral on a moving train. I gaze out of the window to my left and the impression is created that this is an amazing place with abundant resources.

Someone staring to the right disagrees and we argue to the death, for on his side there was

nothing but poverty, filth and anguish. Little did I know that while my head was turned,

behind me lay despair and destruction. Always look forward so you can take in both sides, thus creating and establishing a balanced viewpoint.''.

Upon arrival in the capital, I asked the taxi man to take me to the hostel that we'll be

staying at for the next 4 nights, Hostel Number 11. Jana, from Bacity, greeted me and gave

me the lowdown and the rules of the building, also mentioning that I could play football with

him and the locals later on tonight. I declined, due to my early get up this morning, and

noticed his disappointment (I think he needed an energetic Verlishman on his team.).

I've just been for a delicious Cotojuice curry by the river, which is where I'm currently

sat typing this, and now I'm going to go back for a nap before surprising Jana and taking him

up on the offer. Zzzzzzzzz.

I awoke from my nap only to be told by Jana that he had cancelled the whole thing

because I wasn't playing! With that news, I lay in bed for the next couple of stundas doing

some listening and reading and writing, how therapeutic. Until tomorrow, Dear Reader.

Diary Deary 80. I woke up this morning and saw that I'd become some sort of tattoo artist

myself; my fresh tattoo had imprinted itself rather clearly on to the bed-sheet!

It was a slow start to the sun for me and a slow sun in general, really. I got up, had a

shower, and then set off on a stunda walk to the train station. From here I was making my

way to the airport to greet Lucy. However, I departed the train that I'd boarded after 3 stops, as I had an errand to do. One thing that caught my eye on this train, though, that I must

mention: 'Please do not eat in this carriages others may not like the smell. Be considerate.'.

_''Huh? How about the freedom to do what one wants? How about the abolishment of_

_offensiveness? If people chose not to be offended by anything then war would cease. What the_ _hell is this nanny state? We must push this generation of kids to stand and fight to say or do_ _something you might not like.''_

I was looking for a Whaleg repair centre. After being sent on a bit of a wild goose

chase by the Internet maps, I decided to step into a barbershop for a cut-throat shave and start my search again. You know; fresh face, fresh start! That's some good logic! I asked the

barber for directions, and he sent me further away from where I wanted to be. I eventually

found the building that I was looking for. After having a chat with the employee, she gave me

the same rhetoric of how they can only repair my tablet if I had bought it in Smiyulland.

What's the point of Whaleg being an International company if it has rules like that? Money

money money. I've been doing a sort of fast recently, too, only eating meals between 11-5.

So, being hungry, I demolished some spicy breadcrumbed chicken and rice and then got back

on the train to the airport to go and meet Lucy. I arrived 2 stundas too early. Needless to say, I kept active and I covered every square on all the 4 floors of this building and took

advantage of the free testers that the shops had to offer. Irony (Or is it hypocrisy?) is

prevalent in this World, I feel, and this was made non-the-more clearer than when, on level 3,

I came across a dentist that had recently opened-up a sweet-shop next to the reception desk!

The wait for Lucy's face to appear through the 'Arrivals' doors was a giddy one that

eventually led to nervousness because I was waiting for so long!

Here she is! It was so great to see her and embrace her; only yestersun we'd

communicated using ClockOn, and here she was in physical form! It's amazing that she

has joined us on this quest in Smiyulland, far-far away from our homes and comfort-culture.

All credit to her. We boarded the train and headed back into the city centre. Travelling

through Ouchwil during rush-stunda is a painful experience, but at least it gave Lucy some

time to take-in and admire her new surroundings.

After check-in at the hostel, I felt it right to head out in to the belly of the beast

(Ouchwil in an evening.) and give her a good first impression of the place. The first

destination was the Fried Smiyul restaurant that was rated as Number 1 on Where2Go. We

arrived to a queue, but the turnover was so fast that we were seated within smalieys. We were

astonished to be told that the freshly squeezed orange juice accompanying the meal would

cost more than the food itself! There was a film crew with a large camera and a professional

set-up inside the restaurant. I knew that they'd be interested in filming a curly-haired wawa

and an attractive blonde-haired, white girl. True enough, they came over and told us that they

were filming for 'Smiyul1'. This briefly caused some confusion between me and Lucy as I

thought that they were actually from Smeyeulone (Smeyeulone is a country that is located on

this continent and close to Lifta.)! We quickly debated this, eventually settling on the fact that they were in-fact from the TV channel 'Smiyul1', and not here to film a documentary about

Smiyulland to be aired in their home-country. I hope that you've understood all that! They

were hoping to ask us a few questions about why we were here and what we thought about

the food. Unfortunately for me, I was the one that they seemed to be more fascinated with,

ignoring Lucy and focusing in on me and my curly afro! After answering these questions

with as many words as possible, they then decided that I was a natural actor with a sellable

face; I then had a 10 cufayer close-up, with me grinning widely and giving some thumbs-up.

You'll be seeing me on Smiyul TV over the next riyz advertising Sunrise discounts!

After this delicious, career-altering experience, we went for a walk to let our food

settle on the stomach. We stumbled across que Gon, which is a skully with a large golden bell

at the top of it, looking more appealing at night than it does during the suntime. On the walk

up the windy (Whine-dee again.) stairs, we saw 2 thin, small, turquoise-coloured snakes. 2

urans were descending these stairs and stopped to put a light on their phone, assisting Lucy in taking a picture. They also mentioned that we couldn't go any higher as the gates were closed,

though we would be able to find some large gongs outside the entrance which we were able

to ring.

Yes, the entrance was locked, so we got in a taxi and I returned to the scene of the

rooftop bar, this time with a companion who would be not as eager to leave! Going up to the

64th floor, they this time sent me and Lucy in an opposite direction to the one in which me

and Giles had been directed. A couples-retreat with some couches and an entirely different

view of the city, with the river now clearly visible, was what awaited us. I ordered an

'Antidote Cocktail', again costing ~15, which was served in a potion bottle, and consisted of

lots of fresh, blended fruit and ice with an alcoholic twist. Lucy had a thick and delicious

strawberry Martini. It was brilliant being here with Lucy and not Giles; we stayed for 2

stundas, with neither of us keen to depart, analysing every view and picking out funny things

that we could see. She even backed-up my observation that humans really are comparable to

ants, regardless of whether we were looking down on them or not! _''We are the parasitic_

_alien upon this planet. Human-es no longer exists in their original state. E.g. Electricity:_ _Chickens, for example, sleep at sunset and awake at sunrise. We, however, have lights and_

_alarm clocks, thus distorting Nature's and light's intentions. We scuttle about everywhere_

_like a possessed insect. Humans: Earth's deadly virus.''_

__

Back on the ground floor and amongst all these insects, we walked the quietish, night-

time backstreets of Ouchwil for a little while longer, before getting a lift to Moo Nige Road; I wanted Lucy to have a visual of the craziest street in Smiyulland while she was at least semi-sober and could remember what went on here! I noticed that high-season is definitely in full

swing now, with the street being more packed than it had been last time I was here. We

ambled back to our hostel and called it a night.

Diary Deary 81. A big sun coming up. Giles arrived early this morning from Humu, yet the

doorman wouldn't let him upstairs to get to his bed! I got the blame for this as I hadn't

mentioned anything to Jana about his early arrival. Me and Lucy awoke not too long after, at

which time we were finally able to embrace as a new group of 3. Hip-hip hooray.

I had put out a 'Holla' on ClockOn, calling-out all people in Ouchwil. Max had

responded to this message and we'd arranged to meet-up for what would be his last evening

in Smiyulland. No need to! He was staying in our room at the hostel! That's the third time

that we've run into this great Alhaltian character! In addition, Freddie and Kris had contacted me to say that they were in town, too. They'd made it down from Beere Yu in 2 suns on their

mopeds. Good going. Things were nicely taking shape. We all met up in the morning and had

breakfast together across the street from Number 11.

With the aim of the sun revolving around getting legless on Moo Nige Road that

evening, we took it slow throughout the suntime, taking a 30 freeyz river cruise that took us

right down to the other end of Ouchwil. We had hoped to traipse around a market that Max

wanted to visit, yet upon arrival, we learned that it was an evening market only. Nay bother.

The crazy streets of Ouchwil produce shops and stalls and sights to keep you wandering and

entertained.

Freddie and Kris, meanwhile, had gone off to sort some papers out for their mopeds;

they'd decided to head to Macfunhe with us in 2 suns' time.

The midsun heat and our aimless walking had caused for tiredness within our weak,

aching limbs. With nothing definitive to do, we got back on to the ferry and returned to the

hostel for a nap, before beginning the evening proceedings.

So, the 6 of us left the building and first went to the road adjacent to Moo Nige for our

pre-drinks meal, which would put a layer on to our stomachs, later to be lined by alcohol. As

we went to sit down at the restaurant, Giles bumped into his drinking buddy, Sid, who was a

guest at Number 7 during the time that we were there. It's great how the World throws things

at you which then fit together perfectly. He slotted into the group and accompanied us for the

remainder of the night.

After eating an Inkgri curry, we made the short walk around the corner and we were

then stood on Moo Nige Road. Here we remained for the next 7 stundas. As the night starts

slow, you wonder how you can spend so much time in one place and it not seem to drag on.

Alcohol definitely speeds up time, though! Our first beverage was a bottle of rum with

various mixers, which we split between the 7 of us. We drank this as we walked up and down

the road, waiting for the right pub or club to drag us in. Eventually, a movie-star lookalike

persuaded us to park our bums on his wooden benches and purchase 4 large cocktails from

him. We were stationed opposite a brilliant street DJ; this was the perfect setting for heads to start rolling. Lucy had her Polaroid camera strapped around her neck all night, so we got

some good group shots, which helped us to remember the night a little more the next sun.

About a stunda or so later, some more ex-Number 7ers showed their faces and this

increased the hype and excitement levels. I'd say that it was this event that tipped Giles over the edge and into a state of unknown for the rest of the night. His drunken talks, shouts and

actions came into play henceforth.

I'm not too sure what exactly happened next, there was definitely another bottle of

rum purchased, which will be what has muddied my memory. I think we just got lairy on the

street. The next event that I can detail is being in a club. Oh yes, laughing-gas was consumed

and this was what took me into a state of euphoria. I needed no more alcohol for the rest of

the night; my smiley face was sustaining my enthusiasm. The club was ace, with lots of

Smiyul girls and lots of drunken people. I danced without a care in the World of those

judging my incoordination and erraticness; arms were flailing. _''Maybe it's referred to it as_

_'Judgement Sun' as at some point the sun must come when we stop judging each other.''_

Giles, meanwhile, had become an emotional wreck. I found him waiting outside the girls'

toilet, saying that he was waiting for a chick to come out so that he could tackle her to the

ground because she had gone off talking to another guy. I dragged him away and back into

the safe confines of our group.

The music stopped rather abruptly soon after; some people weren't happy. So much

so, that next thing that I knew we were on the street refraining Giles and Sid from fighting 2

people from Moonie! It was just a big case of 'Handbags at Midnight', with a few drunken

egos thinking that they were 'Superman'. _''The ego tries to keep you trapped in the multiplex_ _of the mind.''_ Thankfully, no fists were swung. Giles then again displayed his lack of social-awareness by self-appointing himself the manager and ring-leader of a break-dancing group,

who were performing on the street. He was shouting and pointing at who should take to the

stage next, and then he lost his mind and went wild with delight whenever they performed a

spectacular stunt. With a chicken kebab down my throat,

I was feeling reenergised. The majority of the group were sobering up by the roadside,

bar Giles of course, who definitely wasn't sobering up! I decided to go and look for Max. It

was his last night in Smiyulland and I wanted to see him off to the airport in the morning. I

knew that he'd be up to something interesting. Sure enough, he was hitting on 2 Bacit girls. I

practised my tongue and strained my ears, impressing them with my linguistic skills. Things

quickly escalated from here, and, after attempting to pretend that we were staying at a nearby

hotel and going up the lift to the rooftop, trying to find a pool, we ended up back at the girls'

hotel, which turns out had a swimming-pool of its own. Only in Ouchwil. They were staying

in a 5* hotel which was eerily quiet for such a big building; I then found myself swimming in

my underwear in a rooftop pool with an awe-inspiring, 360-degree view of Ouchwil. Not only were the girls extremely nice people and the surroundings simply breathtaking, I was

also in a state of bliss because this was the first time in 3 silics that I've been in water, due to my foot infection! I was spending less time flirting and talking and more time doing lengths

of the pool. Max, having nothing to lose, made his move on the tall blonde and was met with

instant rejection. Max, middle-aged, beer belly, thinned hair, greasy beard. Still, a legend-of-a-guy, but just not what the Mydowean girls in Smiyulland are looking for. He cursed his

luck, saying that this had happened too many times during his holisun; I told him that at least he'd tried and that the experience of being up there was a great way to end his 3 riyz journey.

He, like I hope to, flies to Mestepme before heading back home to Alhalt.

We returned to Moo Nige as Max wanted one last attempt to pick-up a drunken girl;

though the only picking up he did was assisting the poor kerb-huggers back to their feet. We

returned to Number 11 in order to collect his luggage. After all the pleasantries and

goodbyes, we went our opposite ways.

My final act of the night was to tie a Sunbumai bracelet to the comatosed Mr Castlow,

Giles Washington. I planned this little stunt about 8 stundas earlier when I saw a street

vendor selling personalised bracelets. This was the final act of Moo Nige; Part 3. As happens

with these nights, more stories are found out in the morning.

Diary Deary 82. Quote of the Silic: ''Common people can be led so as to follow a path, but

not so that they understand it. This is called paternal government. Act towards people as a

father to son, guiding, caring and disciplining. Only educated elite understand the moral,

social and political objectives involved. Be inner directed and maintain moral stance in good

or bad.''.

This may be the shortest entry yet. I had 3 and a half stundas sleep last night and was

badly hungover. Nothing was getting done thissun, I knew that much. However, after my

getaway to the pool last night, Giles Washington it turns out had produced more hilarious

miracles. First, he was apparently lying on the street with his pants down taking a laughing-

gas balloon. Picture it! Next, he decided that he wanted some taboosh. A semi-sober Kris

realised this and decided to accompany him on this interesting journey. Giles' attempts at

starting a fair transaction began with him yelling in the face of the supposed 'Legitimate'

seller, who was a taxi driver, and then claiming and being adamant that he'd already handed

over a ~20 note. Then, as they were getting a lift back to the hostel, he swung from the rear of the taxi to the front, shifting the driver off his seat and grabbing him by his throat, demanding taboosh and money. A possessed man he was. Kris settled the score by paying ~10 for the

tiny bag of fiya that they'd been handed. A drunken Giles then disembarks the vehicle with

the fiya clenched between his teeth. As per the horror stories, 2 smalieys later, the police

arrived, thinking that they were in blackmail-business Oh, how little they underestimate Mr

Washington. In the 20 steps that he'd taken since leaving the taxi, he'd manage to lose the fiya and they were now clean of any illegal possessions! Kris was bemusing the cops by laughing

so much at this; while Giles was obviously shouting, slightly unaware of the situation, saying

that he'd take off his boxers if they wanted any further proof. End of story. Lucky guys, ay!

As for my activities thissun, I felt the need to do something worthwhile, so I took 5

steps across the road and went for my first Smiyul massage, with Kris accompanying. It

lasted for a stunda and can be described as being 'Brutally methodical'. With no oil on their

hands, they manipulate the skin, twisting and turning you in all directions. _''No pain, no_

_gain.''_ A very refreshing experience though, it must be said.

In the evening, we left the hostel as a group of 15 and went for a large meal together

to celebrate 'Dankhand' (Dankhand is an Awedali tradition that is similar to Sunrise that is

celebrated in Verland. Although, this does not exclude Awedalis from celebrating Sunrise,

too!). Vergini has arrived from Humu thissun, too, and she was the one who had organised

this.

Giles and Lucy had gone for a walk in the afternoon; somehow ending up back on

Moo Nige Road and consuming yet more beer. After another beer and mojito at mealtime,

Giles was visibly drunk once again, judging by the size of his pupils! Still, he somehow

managed to find the energy to head out for another night of partying, as did everyone except

me actually. I'd had a banging headache all sun, so I called it an early night, while they called me a chicken. However, I was not alone at the hostel though, the familiar face of Wizzy was

in town! Putting my headache to one side, I proceeded to have a stunda-long conversation

with him, probing him on his travel-orientated life. One profound quote that stuck with me

was when I asked him: ''What's the greatest city that you've ever visited?''. ''The most

recent.'' was his reply. Not too short a diary entry, ay!

Diary Deary 83. The most hilarious thing, ever. Giles wanted revenge for my bracelet prank

the sun before, so, during the night, whilst he was heavily intoxicated, he attempted to draw

on my back using a permanent marker. The nib touching my back woke me up, so I rolled

over to prevent him from drawing on me, although I remained silent. This was the end of the

matter as far as I was concerned, although I could semi-consciously hear him loudly giggling.

Fast-forwarding 7 stundas now, this was when I discovered that Giles had written religious

hate-preach on to the leg of the girl who was sleeping in the bed above me. She has black

skin. How did he get this confused?! I'm white-skinned and on the bottom bunk! To be fair to

the girl, Beth from Moonie, she took it well, considering that it wouldn't even wash off! What

I don't think she'll take well, though, is the news that the ink won't come out of the bed-sheets and that Jana has just charged her debit-card to replace them! She's in Miyt Forz (Miyt Forz

is a Mucfunhen city and is where Cibed Que can be located.) at the moment, which is where

we're to heading next, so Giles can track her down when we get there and resolve the issue

with either a bottle of wine or a refund! Classic Giles story that.

Thissun, after a lovely fry-up breakfast and a strong Maneytah coffee, I went with

Kris as he managed to sell his scooter (They weren't able to acquire the required papers to

cross the border with them.) for ~240 less than he bought it 2 silics ago. Freddie meanwhile,

who'll be travelling for longer than Kris will be, went to the airport and has parked his bike

there, paying for a riyz-long ticket.

Having been in Ouchwil 3 times now, I felt as though I hadn't done many tourist-

related activities. Thankfully, with Lucy now present, I had an able companion. We walked

around the city for about 5 stundas, visiting the majority of the recommended sites. Giles did accompany us for 2 of these stundas, before crumbling and heading back to the hostel. We

visited, and got rejected from, the Palace of the King (Long- sleeved clothes were required to

be worn and no open-toed shoes, either!). We then went to que May, which has a huge, the

largest in Smiyulland if I remember correctly, Maytla statue, in the traditional horizontal

pose. After here, we returned to que Gon, the skully with the golden bell, finishing off the

mission that we started on Lucy's first sun. The view from here provided quite a contrast.

Ouchwil is a dirty city with high pollution levels and a visible fog-like, grey-coloured,

lingering smoke. Yet, as you tilt your neck upwards, earth redeems itself with lush blue sky

and picturesque clouds. _''Have you been reading the papers? Grown-ups really have the_

_World fouled up. Acid rain, toxic wastes, holes in the ozone, sewage in the oceans, and on_

_and on! The only bright side to all this is that eventually they may not be a piece of the planet_ _worth fighting over! Do you think they'll have the World fixed by the time the hand it over to_ _us? Not the way they're going! That's what I thought. I guess that means it's up to us then.''_

The final stop on my list of things that I wanted to see was que Fitglo, which

contained a solid gold Maytla. Me and Lucy had a lovely stroll to get there through the streets of Ouchwil's Liftatown. We were racing the clock, however, as admission closed at

sundown. Just before reaching que Fitglo, we noticed this amazing building, which had

several, gold, glistening towers. It should have hit me that this in fact was que Fitglo. Instead, we turned the road and went to the que that I thought was que Fitglo. We sat staring at this

Maytla in the prayer room, no one else was around. I didn't want to mention anything to

Lucy, but I was sure that this wasn't solid gold! On a positive note though, we had arrived

just as the urans were reciting their prayers, which were being broadcast over the speakers. It was very interesting to hear and witness this; being there as all the people present at the

skully postponed their tasks for 10 smalieys to pray, collectively. _''I pray and ask for positive_ _healing energy to come in to my energy fields and surround me all sun long to release any_

_and all negative energy patterns that I have. I give in return a positive mind-set to fully_ _release these negative issues in all areas of my life.''_ Sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed as we inspected the real que Fitglo on the return walk. Typically, it had just passed sundown and it's doors had closed to visitors.

Fast-forwarding time, after our group evening meal, we went for a 2 stunda wander

around the surrounding area of Number 11. Seek and trust and believe and yee shall find; I

bumped into the taxi driver who sold me the taboosh the last time that I was here in Ouchwil.

Great facial-recognition from me. I took his phone number, asking where and when he'd be

able to meet us. It turns out that he lives on the same road as our hostel! We now had a plan:

Smoke some fiya, one sunter each for me, Kris and Giles, (Lucy doesn't smoke and Freddie

and Vergini were off having 'fun' together.), and then go down to Moo Nige Road with

Giles' camera in hand, filming it all and laughing at all the drunken revellers. That plan had a troublesome start as we struggled to find a safe, hidden place to smoke, away from any

prowling police officers. We ended up in a garden that was just setback from the river, hiding

behind a bush. I don't believe that I've ever smoked a sunter as fast as I did here! As we had

our last drag, someone walked in through the gate; yes, this was someone's house! Good

timing though, as the evidence had gone. We then undertook 'Part 2' of the operation,

namely walking aimlessly along Moo Nige Road (We'd christened it 'Devil Road', as it drags

you in and then doesn't let you go. _'' You cannot change the past, but you can create the_

_future, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a lethargic devil.''_ ). Devil Road gave us laughing- gas, Bovvas, drunkards and an unforgettable giggles experience inside a Store4U:

The cashier who was serving us totally crumbled under the pressure of being filmed, charging

me ~1.28 for a bar of chocolate and then handing Kris some cigarettes that he hadn't even

asked for. The film will be hilarious when it is watched at a faster speed; it lasted about 10

smalieys at normal speed. As we headed home, we saw a t-shirt that was put there by this

great World for our eyes to be seen. Polaroid time. The design on this t-shirt was a picture of the Devil, with the slogan 'God's busy. Can I help you?' written underneath It. Brilliant. No

more events happened after this. Macfunhe tomorrow. Goodnight.

Diary Deary 84. I woke up this morning with a planned train to catch in the early afternoon:

The famous 5 are heading to Cibed Que. Man, the stundas before departing, though, were

some stressful travel stundas. The traffic was jammed in Ouchwil, meaning that we only just

made it on time for the train. Giles also hasn't got in to the habit of haggling and bartering; he just agrees to the first price that is offered to him; setting his starting price for all things at ~4!

This meant that we overpaid to get a taxi to the train station, but the main thing was that we

were there on time. Freddie and Kris were already waiting. So, the train was packed, and we

had no seats, with the stickiness of the Ouchwil air making us all irate. We had to sit on the

floor, while the section designated for the urans was left empty. I believe this to be highly

contradictory as Maytlism is supposed to integrate all things and not encourage separation.

The train was supposed to take 4 stundas, it ended up taking 6. It took one painful stunda to

leave the confines of Ouchwil, with people eventually rearranging for us, allowing us to

acquire seats. I'm moaning, but it's another classic Smiyul-rail bargain, 96 freeyz for the

journey! Finally, after a stop-start beginning to the journey, the train gathered pace and made its way into the lush Smiyul countryside.

2 stundas down the line and we finally had a booth of our own. The ride and company

was worth the delay. Kris has recently awakened from the trap of society and he cannot stop

talking philosophically about everything that he sees; the repetition is hilarious, but it's great to hear; any little thing and he'll say something spiritual; though I'm not sure that this

contributed to him buying a bag of insects to eat, I think he wanted them anyway!

We arrived at the border town of Vidothitha 6 stundas down the metaphorical and

physical line. This is where the apple crumble began to be served. During the next 2 stundas,

it felt as though we had an infinite amount of decisions to make! First, we were taken by the

taxi driver to a scam visa office. Luckily, I'd read about this online and before we had to hand over money, we left. A basic summary of this is as follows: They charge you for a visa prior

to the border-crossing that is then not accepted once you reach the actual border. These con-

artists then followed us to the legitimate border crossing, trying to offer us more deals and a lift to Miyt Forz, once on the other side of the border. No thanks mate, not after you've just

tried to scam me. Crossing out of Smiyulland, we then had to pay ~20 for a Macfunhen visa;

all the while there were lots of people around us offering us a taxi ride and saying that they

can sort things out for us. My head was shot. After the long journey that we'd just had, this

stunda was too intense. We eventually settled on one guy to give us a lift to Miyt Forz for

~10 each. He only had a 4 person car, there were 5 of us. Standard. The middle-land between

borders was 'Crazyville' and basically a free-for-all, I'm not even sure if these places have laws as they're classed as 'Between territories'. _''Tell humans not to commit adultery and_

_they shall have a nagging desire to do so. Laws plant the idea in people's head. Laws and_

_punishments only make people learn how to avoid being caught. Maybe I only smoked_

_taboosh as it was a rebellious, banned substance?''_ Bright lights were everywhere, with casinos, large, expensive looking hotels, loud music and plenty of disgusting-looking street

food; I just wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

After eating some rice and bony chicken, we were finally leaving. The drive to Miyt

Forz took 2 stundas, with my speaker providing the entertainment along the way.

Again, upon arrival in Miyt Forz, I crumbled massively, not being able to deal with

the overload of questions. The taxi driver who was finishing the last leg of the journey, by

taking us to the hostel that we'd booked, began instantly trying to sell us some taboosh.

Straight away, the first person that we've met! This country really is lawless. He then starts

trying to get another ~35 out of us, by saying that he'll take us to Cibed Que in the morning

on the sun after tomorrow. Yes, this does sound like an interesting proposition and we may

take you up on the offer, but we've just arrived in this place after a 12 stunda journey, and we have no idea what we plan to do over the next few suns! Give us a chance to get some

bearings, please! Just take us to the hostel, please! He goes on and on and on. Kris, in his

happy-lovey overdrive-mode, feels a connection to this man, trusting every word that he says,

even after what had just happened at the border! He gives him the ~35! So, it looks like that's all booked now and we'll be going to watch the Sun rise at Cibed Que in 2 suns' time.

We finally arrived at Hostel Number 12, along with the big bag of taboosh that Kris

had also bought. Man, I needed a sunter after the hecticness of thissun. This hostel is

amazing, though. We all have a double bed, and we're on the rooftop, which has hammocks

and a table and chairs. Brilliant. ~2.60 a night, the cheapest place that we've stayed. We then had a sunter, which took us to another dimension; my mind was liberated from my tired

body. We then went for a roam around the city, finding 'Alcho Avenue', which we

christened 'Devil Road II'. Although a lot smaller, all persons were congregated in to 2 clubs

which were opposite each other, with the music culture-clash meeting in the middle of the

street, as the revellers spilled out of the clubs' confines; house music meets the 'Mum and

Dad' music. Freddie, Lucy and Giles stayed out for a little longer, while me and Kris went

back to Number 12 to go to sleep. I say go to sleep, but still Kris somehow found time to

cram in some more of his liberated thoughts; it's like his mind has just gone 'Bang!' and his

tongue has loosened and writing has been unleashed, all in a single sun! My favourite 'Kris

Quotes', as I shall now call them, of the night were these 2: ''I can only believe what I'm

able to believe. Therefore it must be the truth.''; '' There is no such thing as good and evil

because there is no set judge. There is only wise and foolish, being thoughtful or being

dumb.''.

Diary Deary 85. So nice to catch up with you again, we have a lot to get through! We're waking up in Miyt Forz. Let the story telling commence.

So, thissun was used as a sun to come to terms with the in-your-face reality that is

Macfunhe. First scam; breakfast: A restaurant with a deliberate sign stating that they don't

serve monkey, rat or worm. The fact that this sign needed to be displayed made me think they

were trying to cover their tracks somehow!

After breakfast, we got a lift up to que Carta. I'm not sure if I mentioned this in the

last publication, but it's interesting how whichever city you go to, in either Smiyulland or

Macfunhe, they have a unique variation on the taxi. Miyt Forz's have a large carriage with

room for up to 6 people, pulled by a scooter at the front, instead of the usual 3-wheelers that are used in Smiyulland. Anyway, que Carta. We seemed to have arrived on a busy sun, a

celebratory sun, with lots of urans present. The main viewing-point and reason for our visit

was the collection of skull and bones that had been stored in a glass box and piled on top of

each other. These were collected during the brutal Zeus Washee reign and the infamous

'Boys Brigade', during which around 40% of the population was massacred. I overheard a

tour guide saying that the lighter coloured bones had been collected from the river and thus

cleaned by water; while the browner bones were direct from fields of battle; not that it was

much of a battle, 'The fields of slaughter' I'll say instead. Well, what a lovely way to start

this diary entry!

Luckily, and thankfully, and typically, and beautifully, on our walk back into the city,

artwork cheered us up. By the river side, for the duration of 1 stundas-worth of walking, there were various art projects with themes ranging from pollution to happiness to food. Halfway

through this open-air exhibition was the 'Centre Building', where all events relating to this

exhibition were organised. We entered here and browsed the chic shops, all of us purchasing

some chopsticks that had been handmade by Macfunhen people.

Making it back to the hostel, after our slow mid-afternoon amble, we were briefed by

Hostel Number 12 owner, Mr BeeCoz. Mr BeeCoz is an overly polite and welcoming

man who clearly enjoyed owning a hostel and providing for travellers' needs and wants. He

confirmed our smelly suspicions that Kris had way overpaid when handing out ~35 for the

Cibed Que tour. Mister BCZ and his boys do the deal for ~10! Anyway, Kris learns his lesson

and the word 'Naïve' becomes his new buzz word.

I assume this afternoon we must have smoked a couple of sunters because my

memory is hazy. Oh yes, we did in fact do this, and then I spoke to my mum using ICU; she

commented that I looked 'Spaced out'.

Introducing: Kracka, who's from Manwei (Manwei can be found in North East

Awedal.). He'd travelled to meet us from Smiyulland. Giles had befriended him at Number 7

while I was stuck in hospital. Kracka completes our group; The 6 Sombreros. That evening,

as we had an early rise the next sun to go and see Cibed Que, I kept it quiet, though the others did not. They'd live to regret this! We met up with Beth, with Giles getting his apology out of the way early on (It turns out, anyway, that the stain had come out after a second wash and

the Jana had not in fact charged her debit-card.) and we went to a street-side restaurant for some food. Towards the end of the meal, we were approached by a young boy, begging and

holding out his hands for some coins. Being keen not to give him money, as I knew not his

intentions and origins, I handed him the remainder of my food. Soon after, this kid had 
everyone's remains in front of him and sat at the table, wolfing it all down for the next 10

smalieys. _''Giving to someone else shifts your thinking from 'I don't have enough' to 'I have_ _more than enough to give to others'. Abundance is a high vibration.''_

Me and Kris returned to the hostel for a chat (His mind was still in overload.), while

the others stayed out drinking for an extra stunda. Here are a couple of the 'Kris Quotes'

from our pre-sleep conversation: ''To never be shocked by the potential truth is a skill to be

mastered and the key to life. This is why an analytical mind can evolve quicker than others. If I constantly asses every situation and its various possible results, then the truth will not

surprise me. I shall therefore remain in balance and harmony.''; ''Take the ego out of M-one-

Y and the truth shall be revealed. Share.''.

Diary Deary 86. Kris, Kris, Kris, oh Kris! Due to his incessant thinking, the buffoon stayed

awake for the third night in a row until the early stundas, writing in the dark on his tiny phone screen. So, the guy who booked us this extortionately-priced tour overslept and doesn't even

end up coming! Freddie also messaged me mid-night to say that he'd been sick a few times

and he wouldn't be joining us either.

Me, Lucy, Gilo and Kracka were picked up by our driver named 'Wan' just before

sunrise. We made the 10 smaliey drive out of the city, through a large forest, before arriving

at Cibed Que. ~15 each and a pose for a picture enabled us to receive our 'Cibed Passport',

which we used to pass the security-staff and enter into the grounds. _''Who do they think they_ _are to put up barriers and charge me entry? I should be able to walk in to that magnificent_ _construction and leave as I please! How have we let them make money off these ancient_

_wonders? I know the sun is coming when masses of people will break down these barriers_

_using sheer force.''_ Sunrise was due in about 20 smalieys. Lucy is a keen photographer, so she found a spot where she was able to rest her camera in order to take some steady photos.

The sunrise was a cloudy let down, yet it was still magical to see the famous 5 pillars of

Cibed Que coming into sight. _''Rise with the Sun to pray. Pray alone. Pray often. The Great_ _Spirit will listen, if only you speak.''_ Cibed Que translates as 'Kingsville'; I could see why.

The grounds within the confines of the skully walls were enormous. I had visions of cattle

grazing and people and children running about in the long grass. No amount of time in this

place could ever do it justice, there are so many intricate things to see and analyse. We spent perhaps one stunda here, moving slowly, as the early morning get-up had shocked our bodies.

Monkeys perked us up, though, and back into life.

We returned to the sleeping Wan, recognising his vehicle with the number plate

saying 'Princess'. This guy was such a chiller; he gets to lie in a hammock all sun, with free

entry into 'Kingsville', waiting for his customers to return. Heading on to the next site, we

passed over an old, stone bridge and through some symbolic gates, protected above by 4 large faces carved into the rocks with impeccable craftsmanship. Skully number 2 played a visual

trick on the eyes, looking like it had once been a huge game (The Game!) of Jenga/Tetris

played by the Gods, the humans who built it. Staring at the protruding slabs really did create

an optical illusion on the eyes. Whether this was intended or whether it's a product of the

ruin, I do not know. Here, a 'ghost' gave us an unofficial, short tour. I say 'ghost' because we met him after climbing up some steep steps which led to the old library room. He appeared

out of nowhere as we were up here. After his initial introductory speech, and during our

descent, which required 2 steady hands, this man then again appeared from around the

corner! How on Earth did he get down so quick? I was startled. We accepted his unofficial

tour and listened intently to his stories of a by-gone age.

The next skully that we arrived at was pretty much the same as the last one; this

dampened the spirits of my tired companions. As always, the adventurer in me was neither

affected nor tired; I love exploring anything and everything. This led us to take breakfast. It was strange, our body clock was shot to pieces and it was still only early in the sun!

After a stunda's rest and some energetic enzymes, in the form of olbris and chicken,

we were back on the Cibed roads. Passing a few, uninspiring scullies, we finally reached

what me and my time-team gang had been looking for: Ruins that had lost themselves to

Nature, with trees growing out of the walls, and crumbled and fallen stones all around. The

first 3 ques had all undergone restoration processes; all, coincidentally, sponsored by foreign governments, who want to get a foothold in the rising Macfunhen economy. This skully,

however, had been left to Mother Earth, and boy does she make things look prettier than we

do. We stayed at this one ruin for about 40 smalieys, exploring every possible turning.

Liftoup tourists are annoying, may I just say, because they're everywhere in their big groups,

posing for several pictures which are taken at various angles in front of sights that would look better without people in them! _''Picture after picture after picture. Why take so many? Share_ _them so that you can live in the opinion of others? Sorry if I walked through your picture but_ _you have three eyes of magnificent capability already, store the images in your brain and_

_keep walking. Don't get angry at me for doing this. This way, you can spend more intimate_

_time with other human-es, intricately detailing your story through word of mouth instead of_ _passing around a few photos.''_ The outskirts of the skully was where we found tranquillity.

Here we also had a little climb over the ruins, as we released the inner-archaeologist found

inside of us. Giles got shouted at by a tour guide for 'Climbing over his skully'! How can it be his skully?! These ques were constructed long ago for the huge population that inhabited

them at the time. How can they be his?! Also, in Maytlism, a key principle is that one cannot

have possessions and belongings, so it was quite weird on the ear to hear that. Discussing this event later on with Kris, he made the good point that because of the Zeus Washee atrocities,

Macfunhen people really do want to hold on to their identity and culture, and Cibed is part of

that. So, from that perspective, it was rational for the man to shout this at Giles.

Just around the corner from this que, we found a sublimely-still lake. People really do

follow the crowd. This was the best view that we'd had all sun, with the Sun and clouds

reflecting pristinely and perfectly in the water, yet we were the only ones sat here!

Now, after being sat at the lakeside for 20 smalieys, the other 3 had had enough and

were really tired and keen to head back to the hostel. They claimed that they were just going

to go back for a nap and then return, but I knew that I wouldn't be seeing them again thissun.

No way, Jose, was I leaving! Sunrise to sunset, people.

Wan dropped me off outside Cibed Que once more and carried on with the others

back into Miyt Forz. This place is a wonder of the World; you don't leave because you're

tired! Also, the Sun was shining bright; your body will harness energy from that! I cannot put

into words how awe-inspiring the view was now. Cibed Que comes into its own, and goes up

in beauty by a-whole-nother level, during the bright sunshine. Compared to the morning, it

was like being in a different place. For the next 3 stundas, I was as happy as I could ever be. I was in the presence of human's creations and Mother Nature's coming together in perfect

harmony. I walked into the grounds of Cibed Que once more and sat there meditating for 10

smalieys. Then, I noticed the butterflies, the lotus flowers sitting on the lake, the bright green grass; Nature beats man.

There was a huge lake that was a stunda's walk away that I had to go and see. I love

it, I really do. How my friends had left at the wrong time of sun and how, now, in this bright

light, I was experiencing the true Cibed: A vast savannah with wild animals and extensive

crops, with colours so bright and vivid that my eyes could barely process them, comparable

only to something that you'd see in Curtong. Setting off on my walk, I realised just how

gigantic this place was. After one stunda of walking straight and taking it all in, I was none

the wiser of the location of this lake. Luckily, the locals are as great as their surroundings: Walking down a clay road after being informed that it was this way; I was offered a lift and

hopped on to the back of a scooter driven by a boy. He and his mates were heading to the

lake to throw some stones! Wow! All eyes were on me when we arrived in the lakeside

village. 20 children came running over and were playing around me as I stood on the edge of

this vast body of water. The scene was amplified tenfold by the locals and the kids. This was

a place full of happy lives, why wouldn't you be when Nature provides you with such

wonder?

Conscious of the time (I had to make my way back for sunset.), I

stepped back onto the clay road, hoping once again for a keen local wanting to showcase their

generosity. I wasn't disappointed. A song called 'I Can't Find No Love' was playing on my

speaker. Love was manifested in front of me, alright. I was given a lift by a small, weather-

torn-looking man and his wide-eyed, open-mouthed young child; he had the cutest face and

he was transfixed with me, staring in wonder. Now, this next bit, I could make it sound

awesome and lovely like something out of a movie or I could tell the truth. I'll tell the truth.

_''Be truthful at all times. Honesty is the test of one's will within the Universe.''_ The father decided to give me a lift all the way to the skully from which the sunset is most often viewed; about 15 smalieys away. I think that he was also keen to speak a little Verlish. Eternally

grateful for this generosity, my quick-thinking came up with an idea: Instead of money, I

would donate my

Maytla necklace to this little boy, so that he'd forever remember this moment and he'd be

protected by my great spirit. This was easier thought than done. When I first tied this

necklace on, I had short hair. Now, with my boffy afro, it wasn't for coming off. I cut my

nose with the material as I was trying to lift it over my head; it was extremely tight. Snap!

The fabric had split. Luckily, I was able to catch it with my big hands. Remember, all this was taking place on the back of a moving motorcycle, which I was too big for in the first

place; I was getting cramp in my abs because I had to keep my feet lifted off the floor. I tied a bow in the now-ripped fabric and made it whole again. We'd arrived. I wanted to do the act

of placing the Maytla over the child's head; he truly was a little cheeky rascal. Anyway, in

standard, fitting fashion, I'd tied it too small for his tiny head and I nearly ended up crushing the poor kid's skull! Thankfully, his father understood my gesture and had a beaming smile

on his face. He took the necklace in his hand; I hope he's tied it round his son's neck with a

fresh piece of fabric, preferably hemp this time! Amazing.

Now, here I am, stood at the bottom of que Logoth, with a 15 smaliey hike to reach

the sunset-spot up at the top. Overtaking every walker in my path, on the path, I reached the

summit, deciding to continue past the main viewpoint, following a sign that read 'Alternative

Route'. 2 smalieys later and I was away from the hustle and bustle and all alone at a

viewpoint which had Cibed Que in the distance, peeking through the trees. People really do

follow the crowd; I waited there, staring, thinking and meditating for 20 smalieys, yet no

other soul showed up, to my disappointment. I roused my legs and climbed the stairs to join

the masses on top of the skully and to watch the Sun setting through the clouds. _''The Sun_

_sets, the moon appears, the Sun rises. Suns, silics, riyzs and sirculs.''_ Again, it was about as disappointing as the sunrise, but at least I can say that I was there to witness both. Up there, Cibed once again showed it's greatness and vastness; in one sun, I hadn't even scratched the

surface of the map, it's no wonder that people are able to purchase a silic-long pass to this

place!

With the Sun tucked away and the security ushering us down, I got a lift back to the

hostel. A fabulous sun, one that I'll never forget. On the way back to the hostel, I witnessed

something that put man's influence on this planet into perspective. Yes, I'd spent the sun at

one of our greatest constructions, but I also was now witnessing one of our greatest failures:

A lake had become filled with excess waste from all the plastic-based wrappers and materials

that we use; 3 dead fish were floating on the surface. _''I dare not to look upon our planet with_ _a purist's eye. It would make me sad. The destruction. The overworking. The silent raping._

_For what has it become? A guzzler. A machine. A slave. A den of ill repute. We will learn_

_though. The rape victim will scream out with fury and with it even more destruction. The sky_ _will be covered with a lingering grey smoke. The light will be gone. The life will cease to_ _exist. Then we will know. Only a few will survive. They will rebuild and nurture a planet_

_teething with pure white beams of life. Radiance. And so, the story will be told how our ages_ _were but the foolish. Walking around with their eyes shut. Unaware of what their_

_surroundings hold. We will be the unwitting joker, because for the whole time, we were_

_laughing. This is the final era, the degenerate age. Factionalism and wars are widespread._

_An inferior existence beacons...''_

__

I arrived back at the same time as the others were rising from their slumber. Lucy had

intended to return, she claimed, and meet me but she'd slept too long, missing out on some

excellent photo opportunities for her project. Freddie and Kris then made a timely entrance.

Freddie professes, with a huge grin on his face, that he'd been in hospital for the past 3

stundas and had paid ~400 in medical fees! What?! Is this a joke?! He's had tummy-ache for

one night and he's gone to hospital for extensive tests?! The way he was telling the story was hilarious, though. It was like he wasn't bothered about the outlay of money and he was happy

to pay to be attended to and have a nice few stundas where he was the centre of attention in a

hospital, surrounded by Macfunhe nurses! They've obviously claimed that he's got some

internal virus, and have given him some tablets. _''If heath companies really wanted to cure,_ _they would be in the business of putting themselves out of business, and that in fact doesn't_ _make sense''_ Still, he was keen for a drink that night though, stating that he'd start his medication tomorrow!

We then dillied and dallied for too long, I was getting tired, before eventually making

it to the pizza restaurant down on Alcho Avenue. It was described to me as a pizza restaurant

but I was gratefully able to order a deliciously large blue-cheese burger. Again, we had met

Beth and I was sat across from her friend from Browkland who she'd met whilst travelling in

Maneytah. Putting him on the spot, I asked for his favourite quote. Here's what he replied:

''The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you,

depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed. Fear is practicality,

what we really want seems impossibly out of reach so we never dare to try to attain it.''.

Good answer, mate! As a group, we then bought alcohol and plastic cups so that we could go

back for a drink on our terrace at Number 12. I, after 25 smalieys of listening to Kris and his ideas, finally shut my eyes.

Diary Deary 87. After yestersun's festival of stundas, I had a nice lie-in this morning. We had no plans for the sun, except to be ready to catch a bus to Tiplitoplitow (Tiplitoplitow is a

seaside town in the South of Macfunhe.) in the evening. After waking up and slowly packing

my bag, I headed off to the Post Office to post our collective postcards; 2 for me, 4 for Lucy

and one for Gilo de Squilo (De Squilo is a name that Lucy uses often and apparently comes

from a song that Giles's younger brother made-up about him after Giles had accidentally

pooed on his face whilst actually trying to fart, known as pharting: 'Gilo de dilo. Squilo de

fart-pooper.'; they were aged about 12 and 10 at the time, though it would not surprise me if

such songs were still recited.).

Departing from the hostel as a group, I left the others to munch their breakfast while I

walked the streets of Miyt Forz, heading towards the Post Office. Being early and all, I

required my standard latte-frappe, it now having seemingly become a biological dependency.

I waited in a nice little coffee-shop for this to be blended for about 5 smalieys, with all of the staff-members standing around me in anticipation as I took the first sip. One spoke in

Macfunhen to his colleague, who then translated into Verlish. All these people were very

keen to hear what I, me and my white, judgemental, all-knowing skin, had to say about it. It

was delicious I told them, though a little too sweet, which I didn't mention. Still, they were

clearly delighted with my ecstatic response and cheeky, teethy grin. Upon making it to the

PO, I got the stamps for ~1 each, which is the standard, basic price for any item here in

Macfunhe. Before sending them off, I caught a glimpse of Giles' card, which included a very

cute message to his parents saying: "Merry Sunrise, I love you all. However, I feel my love

for the road is too strong and I may not be returning home.". My postcards were sent to my

mother and Mikey C. I wrote on them that I'd race home the postcard. Who'll win? Stay reading to find out this cliff-hanger-of-an-answer.

After arriving back at Number 12, I proceeded to lounge about for the remainder

of the afternoon. I listened to a 2 stunda UzVid video on the etymology of the word 'Atom',

learning that this is why the study of the human-e body is referred to as 'Anatomy'; we're all

just made up of tiny atoms! I learned that the term 'Monad' refers to the ultimate atom and

the simplest, unextended point. I've included this word as it mimics the word 'Nomad' which

is one that lies close to the hearts of me and Giles. The video also taught me that: ''We have

3 mysteries that we do not understand: The unpredictable movements of atoms; the existence

of our own consciousness, and the friendliness of the Universe to life and mind. These 3 are

probably connected yet not understood.''. The second video that I watched was on chakras

and how they are cryptically discussed within The Holy Book of the West.

All entertainment that wasn't to be found on a screen began to occur as soon as we hit

the road. With the taxi-truck collecting us, we got a lift literally 2 smalieys up the road and then were made to sit on a coach for the next stunda! This was my first experience of a bed-including sleeper-bus. Thankfully, some unintended and unexpected comedy was provided

by 2 local men and one Western man. Things happened fast. These 2 guys were just sitting

there innocuously. All of a sudden, a man still wearing his scooter helmet comes on to the

coach and starts shouting. He then slaps one of these men and then proceeds to rip up the ID

of the other; before getting off the coach and emptying their bags and belongings all over the

pavement. He then steps back on to the bus and tells the rest of us: ''These people are thieves and they buy a ticket for this bus just to steal your stuff. They took my wallet yestersun.

Watch out!''. Strong accusations! These 2 people were then the victims of evil stares coming

from all angles. You don't need to be warned about such things on journeys and buses like

this though; me and Giles were more than aware after what had happened during our journey

from Eu Will to Ouchwil.

Finally, after one, stationary stunda, the bus departed, with each of us having a

different source of entertainment: Kris read through my notebooks, Freddie had an

unbelievably large and strong sunter so that'd taken care of him, Kracka was reading a book,

and Lucy and Gilo de Squilo were watching a movie on her tablet. I, meanwhile, was open

and attentive and on hand to assist anyone who needed anything; I kept myself free. This was

normally Kris, who had many queries and questions regarding what I had written in my

notebook. By the time he'd handed it me back, he'd added in these 3 quotes himself: ''Stress

is the curse from abuse.''; ''Be not afraid of saying the word 'No', as this creates thought and an analytic consciousness.''; ''Understanding the truth is this complexity. Wanting the truth

is wanting happiness. Truth as you know it is ever changing. So either you know the truth all

the time or you don't. This is why time exists. Time gives the Universe its existence.''.

Attempting to go to sleep was difficult on this coach, as was understanding what the

driver was up to; we stopped needlessly after a stunda and had a few more mini pit-stops

before the clock had even reached midnight. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I sleepily

remember the 2 people who were on the beds in front of me getting off the coach; this was

my opportunity to get a double bed to myself. I did this and then my eyes remained closed for

the remainder of this entry. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Diary Deary 88. Quote of the Silic: ''The liberties of a people never were, nor ever will be,

secure, when the transactions of their rulers may be enclosed from them. Perfect freedom is

as necessary to the health and vigour of commerce as it is to the health and vigour of

citizenship. Fear is the passion of slaves.''.

Tiplitoplitow. Even the name sounds weirder than most in this book. After the

treacherous experience of getting here, which included a stop because the tyres were nearly

on fire and they needed a spray down, the last thing that we needed was to be pestered. Ah, if

only. This is Macfunhe. These are taxi drivers. ~10, ~7, how much you pay? ~ ~ money

money! Stepping off the bus, we were swarmed by 10 drivers who each wanted to give us a

lift. I couldn't think and process all of these demands. After 5 smalieys I gave up trying to

barter, wanting to just get away from the bus station and get to the hostel. We got 2 taxis

between us, costing ~5 each. Driving through Tiplitoplitow to get to the hostel, I noticed a

lack of infrastructure around the town and that everything seemed a mess, as though

construction had started yet had been left unfinished. _''Build your own dreams or someone_

_else will hire you to build theirs.''_ Saying this, though, lots of travellers we've met along the way have recommended that we should come here. Learning about Macfunhe and how well

they're manipulating the currency, I believe that in the next 7 sirculs, this beach-town will be the place-to-be for anyone who comes to South East Oibye.

Hostel Number 13, which also doubled-up as a rock club and had a guitar-shaped bar,

was where we'd be staying. Before going to the rooms, which were located through the

restaurant and outside at the back, we sat down and had breakfast. A Verlish breakfast was

what we all ordered, needing some homely comforts after the journey, and it was served to us

by, a full Verlish! Recognizing the rough accent, and feeling weirdly warm inside, I was in

the company of Rupert, who comes from a town on the outskirts of Hucurl, and has been

working here for a while now. Also, Spuds McGhee showed up; Spuds McGhee: A huge

golden-retriever who was the hostel dog. Yes Spudz. After wolfing down our deliciously

cooked breakfast, it was time to check-in. Giles showed his usual negligence by writing a

joke name, joke country of origin and a joke passport and visa number on the forms that we

were handed. This certainly isn't the nicest place that we've stayed; there was scaffolding

erected and the showers and toilets were located next to them, this meant a barefoot walk

across bricks and stones after having a shower; not nice.

We dumped our luggage, keen to head down the beach and get sand in between our

toes after too long away from the stuff. This took longer than expected, with everyone faffing

about. It also took longer than expected because, after enquiring with Rupert, we learned that

the best beach to go to was a bit of a hike away. A literal hike, we soon realised, as we

walked down to Nistaly beach; the one which was at the bottom of our road. To the right and

around the corner was our destination; lots of sharp, nasty-looking rocks were in our way.

This is where one of my lesser character traits reappeared. After 2 silics of love-for-life and total bliss and oneness, I was due a crash back to reality that would test my mental strength.

The others were slow climbers and weren't so keen to advance in the direction that the rocks

were taking us. I, with ego in mind and being one-dimensional, just wanted to get there as

quick as possible, so I raced ahead and traversed the coastline at my own, fast pace. I should have remembered the quote that says that: ''Only egos have perishable L-i've-S, whereas

spirits live forever.''. This would have slowed me down and made me remember that on my

own, life could perish a lot easier than if I had my caring friends around me. _''There are 2_

_choices in most situations: The easy way or the right way. Always bear this is mind.''_ There was still some dodgy, dangerous solo-climbing required to be done. They had each other to

help them. Me, being 100m in front, I was on my own. Anyway, my first accident came when

I slipped on the rocks and my ankle wound reopened slightly! It still hadn't fully healed and

now it

was open again as the soft, new skin peeled back and sea water seeped in. After this riyz-long

absence, I was not not going in the sea; I'd just have to keep an eye on it and use plenty of

iodine when back at the hostel to clean it up. Still, with the 5 others far back in the distance, I carried on, with the secluded beach now in sight. I'd become careless and animalistic. My

mind was focused on making it there and I didn't think about anything else. I began to wade

through the water, not having the patience to navigate the jagged rocks carefully. Well, with

an attitude like this I deserved to be punished. During this holisun, my bag has had a weird

tendency to open itself. This event occurred at the worst of times in the present, yet at the

best of times if I wanted to learn a harsh lesson; out fell all of my belonging, first bouncing off the rocks and then sliding into the sea. My tablet and music-player were instantly water-damaged; bye-bye. The speaker too, although that's a warrior and it stands alone as the only

electrical product of mine to survive the trip. My towel fell-in, along with shoes, socks and

clothes, as did all my money which was in one of the pockets. Learning what I've learnt over

the past 2-3 silics, I know that life is all perspective and how you decide to look at things and how you learn from your actions; there were events that would happen because of this which

shall lead me into contact with people I may otherwise not have met; that was how I'd have to

treat this situation. I also had to finally accept that sometimes I can be so impatiently stupid and negligent. _''Everything we experience is a chance to learn and grow. When faced with_

_uncertainty, it helps to connect to the possible purpose or lesson that is trying to express_ _itself.''_

__

Finally, reaching the beach and with sand in-between toes, I lay out all my stuff to dry

and began speaking to a man from Sloinoi (Sloinoi is the largest land-massed country in the

World and the eternal enemy of the West, according to the fear-inducing media.). The one

thing that I did manage to learn from him, which helped my worrying-mind return to

neutrality, was that, in his language, the word for 'Peace' could also be used to mean 'the

World', 'the Universe' or 'a farm-village community'. ''The World is a harmonious whole'',

he said to me! Well, wasn't this just the perfect time to hear this!

It was 25 smalieys before the others arrived. I was too ashamed initially to admit to

them the events which I'd just endured. Anyway, here we were, on a beach, the 6 of us.

Cheers guys! The sea was delightfully warm. We stayed there for 3 stundas, lounging about

and relaxing.

Obviously, we weren't going to go back to the hostel the same way, we were going to

walk on the main road this time. Still, getting to know Macfunhe and how funny the money

is, we said we'd just say ~1 to any taxi driver who offered us a lift back. Luckily for us, the first driver accepted.

Back at Number 13, I asked Rupert if I could go into the kitchen and put my tablet

and music-player in their rice container, hoping that the water would be absorbed. That's me

on a downer for the next 24 stundas due to materialistic electronics! _''We're materially_

_contaminated. We've been conditioned in turn and have been lead to a false consciousness_

_and false ego, being absorbed in bodily conceptions and not being able to accept this_

_situation. I am not this material body, I am mukti, I feel liberated from my body and my_

_contaminated consciousness.''_

__

Who's next?! Giles is next. As soon as we'd all returned, Rupert gathered us in our

room. We wondered what had happened. He told us that there had been a robbery and that we

should all check our stuff. None of us really needed to do that. Giles had been the one who

had got hit. The robber had seen his bag and hit a goldmine. For some reason, Giles had left

his tablet, video camera and hard-drive all in the same bag in the dorm room. As soon as the

thief saw this, he'd hit the jackpot and didn't even need to go through other people's stuff.

Basically what had happened was that there was a guy who had checked in more or less at

same time as us, he was even lying on the bed while we were getting our stuff ready to go to

the beach, and then, as soon as we'd left, he'd grabbed Gilo's bag along with a tablet

belonging to a Liftoup woman and then he did a runner. Rupert showed us the CCTV; you

can see him running down the street and getting straight on to a ferry, never to be seen again, one would assume. This is where Giles' disregard for proper form-filling comes back to bite

him: The robber, too, had used a fake name and fake visa numbers, meaning that there was

no way to trace his identity. Me and Giles had been hit with 2 sucker-punches on the same

sun. Luckily, my main loss was only recent pictures from Cibed Que; my diary had been

saved on to an external USB stick which I always kept hidden amongst my luggage. Giles,

however, had all his videos saved on to the hard-drive which was in the bag. All the 'Nomad

Talks' that we'd recorded, all the sights and experiences and beautiful faces that we'd met

along the way. Lost. These were going to provide the material for Giles' compilation project,

and it'd all gone.

Giles, Lucy, Kracka and Kris all went to the police station shortly afterwards, though

it was clear that nothing would get resolved and that the police weren't going to be that

bothered or interested. I stayed at the hostel with Freddie. 5 stundas they were gone for!

During this time, a girl from Verland unexpectedly came into our life when she came over

asking for a paper for a sunter; we handed one over, saying that we'd come and smoke it with

her. Trisha has been living here in Tiplitoplitow for a riyz now and has acquired herself free

food and accommodation by working for a club on the beach front. Every club on the beach

front has a sign saying 'Western Staff Wanted', which is how Trish got the job. As I was

saying earlier about this place being the destination to come in 7 sirculs, it'd be clever to get-in here early. We went down to 'Whale Bar', where she worked, and had a smoke, watching

the Sun disappear from our view until darkness reigned. Whilst here, we encountered a

cheeky, local boy, who attempted to start bribing us, saying that he'd go and tell the police

that we were smoking taboosh, unless we bought a pair of the sunglasses that he was selling.

Kids are taught to hustle here from a young age, aren't they?

Back at the hostel now, me and Freddie noticed Rupert's influence and license for

freedom at Number 13. His presence has, I assume, led to them serving a traditional Verlish

dinner every other evening. Me and Freddie, the food-shovelling giant, had one each whilst

listening to Rupert, who was performing on stage (Tonight was open-mic night and you get a free beer if you sing to the result of an applause.).

Finally, the other 4 returned. Giles, having a warrior spirit, was not letting the events

affect his personality. That evening we went to HighPaw Cinema, the whole reason that I

knew about Tiplitoplitow in the first place. Mark recommended this place to me 2 riyzs prior

whilst we were in Eu Will. This place was the most chilled place that you could imagine. It's

owned by 2 blokes from Kidriv. ~1 per stunda per person. You're allowed to help yourself to

various foods from the fridge, and then you pay the bill at the end. We entered our chamber:

This was the greatest room that I have ever smoked in: 5 seats, all with comfy cushions;

blankets; air-con; extractor fan; any film or documentary you could ever want to watch on the

large TV screen in front of you. Taboosh? Easy. This is Macfunhe. I literally had to walk

outside to the front of the cinema, where there were 5 taxi drivers all ready and willing to do business. ~30 for a sac that'd cost me at least ~45 back in Verland. Nice taboosh as well!

Buds! I've not seen buds in nearly 3 riyzs! It's been all mainly fiya in Smiyulland, which is

always full of stalks and has been burnt to a crisp because of the high temperature in the

mountains here, where it is grown. Still, the standard falls far shorter of what gets grown

in Mydow. The first film that we watched was Giles' favourite movie, he got to choose

because of thissun's happenings; a badass movie for the rock-rebel within and well

accompanied with rum and cola.

After this, Kris and Giles left to go and chill with Lucy, who wasn't overly keen on

sitting in our den. Me, Freddie and Kracka stayed and started to watch another movie, one

that was eerily familiar to situations here in Tiplitoplitow, a place where ~1 could get you

anywhere if you used it wisely. Kracka left half way through the film; me and Freddie were

like kids in a sweet shop though: We didn't want to leave.

We finally roused our limbs sometime after midnight. We then paid our ~6 bill and

went to find Kris, before going for a little walk around town, after which our heads hit the

pillows.

Diary Deary 89. I awoke thissun in a very contemplative mood and I'm not too sure why. I

guess my mind was pre-occupied with tablet-resurrection, getting bogged down with

thoughts of money. _''What's money? A human-e is a success if they gets up in the morning_

_and goes to bed at night and in between does what they want to do.''_ The others,

accompanied with our room-mate Jai Ma Kon (Jai Ma Kon is a lady from Lifta who is in

the same dorm as us, and who had her tablet stolen yestersun. She is a Verlish teacher by-

trade, whose husband has just died; which is why she's decided to go travelling.) went out to

Jumda beach, the main beach in town (Trisha told us yestersun that Nistaly beach has 5 sewer

lines flowing into it!). Jumda beach is about a 30 smaliey walk away. I stayed at the hostel,

not knowing what to do with myself. I just needed some alone-time; I had negativity in my

head that I needed to think out of me. _''Search for yourself, by yourself. Do not allow others_ _to make your path for you. It is your road and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but_ _no one can walk it for you.''_

__

I lounged about for 2 stundas or so, constantly repeating these words in my minds:

''Perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to

try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have

forgotten.'' Managing to borrow a laptop off another resident for 20 smalieys, I had the news

confirmed to me that I had been dreadfully expecting: My mother sent me an e-mail

confirming that I will be leaving this beautiful place in 1 silics' time; flights have been

booked. My funds have run out. Thankfully, my mum had listened to my thoughts of not

wishing to return directly to Verland; she'd arranged flights-back via 3 suns in Piracol and 2

suns in Mestepme. I emailed Mark immediately, letting him know this and hoping that he'd

be able to accompany me. I also contacted Mikey C, to see what dates he'll be in Mestepme. I

know that I've just written that I have 1 silic left, but it's just dawned on me that I have only 1 more sun after this with Giles and the gang, as I need to make the journey back to Ouchwil.

How am I going to break this news to them?!

Surprisingly, the confirmation of my departure cheered me up and made me feel

grateful, as I began to reflect on my time here so far. This was what I needed to feel inspired and be reminded of the journey that I am on and what I stand for as a natural, human-e being.

I finished my mango ice-cream-shake and then walked down to the beach. With sand in-

between my toes and the Sun freely dishing out it's energy to me, my legs got into motion

and I ran with a spring in my step along to Jumda beach; Nistaly beach was deceptively long!

After the initial nightclub stretch, there was a large stretch of desolate land. I can't help but feel that this greenery will be developed on by a hotel chain within the next few sirculs.

I reached Jumda beach to see that my family of fellow nomadic travellers had chosen

to take over the best spot on the beach: We had a nice sunbed area next to the bar with a

sunbrella, but their main capture was a raft that was floating in the sea. I left my stuff with Ma Kon, who was sketching in her art book, and then waded out into the water to chill with

the group. My ankle was stinging a little bit, but salt water is actually good for it; it's

infection from the showers and hostel rooms that I'm worried about. Having a raft to sit on

out in the sea is such a good idea, once you've experienced it, and I couldn't believe that we

were the only ones utilising it.

After sitting with legs dangling in the water and chatting for a while, we headed back

to shore to play card games. Oh, not before we judged each other's dives. Freddie, who

claims his method is modelled on his dad's dives, has the funniest. His top half starts the

motion off and submerges in the water long before his legs flop in behind him. Hilarious.

Back on loud sand (It made a friction noise if you wipe your foot along it.), I

took the time to study Ma Kon's art book. There were some very good drawings in there but

the one that caught my eye was one that she drew at Cibed Que. Like me, the butterflies had

attracted her attention. Yet the annotation on the picture read 'Is that you?'. This made it

clear to me that she's 'travelling' with her husband accompanying in her head, and she's

wondering whether his spirit can be found in the animal she sees in front of her, something

known as 'Animism'; which is the belief that non-human-e entities, such as plants and

animals, possess a spiritual essence. That's beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, I've not watched a sunset like this once since the start of this

trip on Ma Tammy. Having learnt a lot recently, through UzVid videos, about light and in

particular natural white light and how it splits into visible light, manifesting itself in either a

red-coloured spectrum or a blue-coloured spectrum, I was fascinated by the colour transformation of the sky. Also, the clouds formed some intriguing shapes, which we

discussed.

With the Sun now laid to rest (Sound familiar?), we were in the hands of the moon

and darkness. Sure enough, within 10 smalieys, a thunderstorm had arrived. The flashes and

noises were unreal; our whole eyesight being taken over by blinding sparks every 2 smalieys.

During the walk back to the hostel, Kris became the first person to be informed of my

impending departure, being very supportive about it all, saying that we must accept what

comes our way. We nearly made it back in a decent, dry state, but the heavens opened before

we managed to do so and we were forced to strip down to bare skin once again, so that our

clothes didn't take the brunt of it.

Back at the hostel, me and Freddie showered quick-time, like 2 children keen to get

back to their favourite park. Yet me and Freddie were in fact 2 adult gravlas who wanted to

get back to their most homeliest and holiest of rooms, down at HighPaw. I realise that so far

not much has been spoken of about food in Macfunhe, well that's because I don't really know

what Macfunhen food is. I have not really seen that much street food anywhere, plus the ease

of the currency here makes it too easy to think with a Western-mind, which is what we did

most times; bacon-cheeseburgers being a personal favourite. Mentioning food, I now recall

the food I ate this night. HighPaw cinema puts another feather in its cap by having a menu on

the wall for a very select variety of pizza: 'Happy Pizza'; I ordered a 12'' margarita, asking

for it to be a 'Bob Marley extra special'. Yes, pizza with taboosh on.

Me and Freddie lounged for another 4 stundas that evening, watching the end of the

movie that we'd started to watch last night and also a brilliant film about the brashness of

Awedal and it's foreign-intervention policy, with the theme tune to the film going like this:

''The Share O' Five: What would you do if you were asked to give your dreams for freedom?

What would you do, if asked to make the ultimate sacrifice? Would you think about all them

heroes, who gave everything they had? Would you think about all them war vets, and would

you start to feel bad? Freedom isn't free, it costs folks like you and me, and if we don't all

chip in, we'll never pay that bill. Freedom isn't free, no there's a hefty fee, and if you don't throw in your share o' five, who will? What would you do, if someone told you to fight for

freedom? Would you answer the call, or run away like a little pussy? Because the only reason

that you're here is because folks died for you in the past, so maybe now it's your turn to die

kicking some ass. Freedom isn't free, it costs folk like you and me, and if we don't all chip

in, we'll never pay that bill. Freedom isn't free, no there's a hefty fee, and if you don't throw in your share o' five, who will? If you don't throw in your share o' five, who will? Oh share

o' five, freedom costs ~1.05.''.

We were joined by the gang sporadically at various points during these stundas. 30

smalieys before calling it a night, I rolled an extra-large sunter, sharing this with Freddie and also sharing the information of my upcoming departure.

I'm back in bed now and I expected the diary's entries to be closed for thissun. But

no, I overhear Kris and Lucy having a drunken conversation in which I worked out that Kris

had just informed Lucy that he 'fancied' (For want of a more sophisticated word.) her. She

then rejected these advances and Kris, in his frenzied mind, had decided to blurt out his belief

that it was because she had feelings for Giles. What a can of worms to open! In my mind, I was begging him not to continue talking, knowing that the alcohol was 'in control' of his

mind and mouth. Still, he managed to say some pretty crude things in that short period of

time; I laughed-out-loud and thought that they had realised my conscious presence, they

hadn't. The chat finally reached an end and my eyes closed for rest, before realising

something wonderful as I went over the sun's events in my head: When I return home, these

suns of travel and freedom and mental liberation and living daily as a natural being will have

totalled 100 exactly! I shall incorporate this into the title of this book.

Diary Deary 90. The Last Sun. Lucy awoke early this morning to go for a 'clear-your-head'

run; I was disappointed that she didn't wake me up so that I could join her. If you're reading

this Lucy, you'll know next time, yeah.

We ate breakfast together as a group of 6. Bacon, eggs, toast and jam for me, served

with an iced-coffee; Freddie had his feast: The same as me, also accompanied with 5

pancakes and a sweet, strawberry-syrup sauce. Woah, he's a big eater, at a rock bar!

Jumda beach produced an amazing environment yestersun, so we're going to go back

there thissun. I walked along the beach with Lucy and Kris, keen to get them talking again so

that things wouldn't be awkward between them. We regretted this decision to walk, though; it

took ages to get there, once again. The other 3, meanwhile, took a taxi. We finally met them

at our hangout from yestersun. Kracka, Lucy and Giles still don't know that this is my last

sun, so I was keen to loosen everyone's tongue and get the spirits roused by ordering 2 jugs

of beer. This was funny because they'd all been cursing alcohol this morning due to last

night's bender. Cheers everyone! To a fabulous sun.

I was keen to explore more of the beach thissun, and after a stunda's bathe, both of

Sun and water, me, Lucy and Freddie walked down the beach to let the eyes see more. And

there he was: Hi Seymour, how are you doing thissun?! We soon realised that we'd chosen

quite an expensive place to hang-out, but then again it was the spot with the closest access to the rickety raft; definitely worth it then! Our eyes were soon diverted by an 'Om' shop that

was just off to the left-hand side of the beach. We approached the 'Om' shop and were

greeted by the ultimate, typical-impression in the mind's eye, hippie. I can't remember his

name, Jake maybe, but he had some bushy dreadlocks and was the owner of this jewellery

shop on the beach front, specialising in crystals. The crystals that my eyes were attracted to, though, were the ones covering the huge quantity of taboosh that was lying on the couch (The

crystals found in taboosh are the psycho-active chemicals.). We declined his offer to purchase

any, though he did leave a thought in our minds, by saying that he also makes and sells his

own space-cookies. He started to explain how he'd made them and how much he'd put in

them, but he didn't need to; just from spending the past 5 smalieys with him, I trusted this

guy on the legitimacy of his taboosh-baking skills. We'd return later in the sun to purchase

some.

In-fact, there's nothing that could be said in-between really; we did make 2 wades out

into the water with a sunter, rolled and stored and sealed in Freddie's medicine bag. With

legs in the sea, bums perched on the raft, adorned with a Macfunhen flag, staring out into oblivion, an unreachable horizon, this was a great spot amidst Nature to smoke-it-up.

We returned to the shop as pr-'Om'-ised, purchasing 4 cookies just before sunset,

costing ~10. We had hoped to eat them later on in the evening as we didn't want to lose

control of our bodies at this early stunda, but they were fresh-out-of-the-fridge and he

recommended a quick consumption. One and a half each for me and Freddie and one for

Giles. Let the waiting begin.

Tonight, we paid ~1 each to get a lift back to Number 13. Freddie was the first to be

affected by the cookies; he was flat out, crashed on his bed, visually affected and severely

under the influence. To be honest, I must have been in a lazy-induced-mode myself because I

got in the shower, washed my cut, and then realised that I couldn't be bothered getting my

body wet again so I just went back into the dorm and got changed. As we were eating dinner,

the effects started coming on to me and Giles, too; giggles and bodily perceptions becoming

deranged and estranged. Freddie still had the worst of it though, struggling to put his drink

and food to his lips. If there was a fight between him and his sandwich, the sandwich won

with a KO. Lucy and Kracka had been informed a little earlier of this being my last night,

with Lucy refusing to take me seriously at first. Giles was then updated during an after-meal

cigarette, with just the 2 of us present. Me and him. The 2 Nomads. The guy who escaped it

all with me. The guy who said 'Goodbye Bull' with me all those suns ago. My man, the Giles

man, the man who every night shall provide you with smiley entertainment because all he

wants to do is to have fun himself. Love him. We embraced and toasted to a good, long night.

Our first destination tonight was the casino. Kracka, the keen Awedali that he is, had

been going cold-turkey over in these parts, with gambling usually being strictly forbidden.

Tiplitoplitow is 'Mad-Town', of course there's a casino here! As soon as we took to the

streets and were required to move limbs, however, the cookies came into full effect. It

seemed like we were swaying about and incapable of remembering what was going on,

getting stuck mid-sentence sometimes, and leaving items on the roadside that we'd just

purchased from the shop.

I think it was the 20 smaliey taxi ride out to the casino which sobered us up. We were

the only ones in this large building, meaning that our table became centre-of-attention for any employees present. Kracka was straight into blackjack. I, meanwhile, was playing a long and

safe game (The Game!) on the roulette table. To be honest, I was on fire and in complete

control of the strategies and outcomes of my bets. I wowed the audience with my confident

~3 bet on '23'. Of course it came in, that's my synchronistic number. After a glass of beer,

which we didn't even end up paying for, and a couple of cigarettes, I managed to leave the

table ~75 up, with ~125 in hand. The balance was soon restored, though, by my brashness on

blackjack. I've never played against a dealer before and I was losing ~5 chips every time.

Somehow, I managed to leave minus ~10. Still, I milked it on the roulette and definitely

released some chemicals in my brain which got me on a hype and in a jovial mood.

We returned to town and went to HighPaw, with Lucy accompanying us tonight, too.

With rum and cola slurped, things got tired and sleepy real quick. At around midnight, we

went for a walk down to the beach bars to see what was going on. We stopped to have a

dance to some loud, too loud, music and moved on after a few hip-shakes and boogies. The

music being played at the only other bar which was open turned out to be even more of a racket. Anyway, my eyes were going. When I get to that point, the only way I can come out

of it is with a nap. So, to every else's shock and despair, this is what I did. There were some comfy lounge chairs still laid out on the beach, so I collapsed onto one of these; I vaguely

remembered being asked for some money but I'd already crossed the consciousness threshold

and was in dodo land. Giles and Lucy tried to rouse my soul, trying to keep my candle

burning as Sebastian and Gabby would say, but I wasn't for having it. It is to my knowledge

that they then went back to the first club for a bit, before coming back to chill and rest by my side. I awoke about 3 stundas later. This was not the messy, final night that some may have

been expecting but if you've read this far, then you know that conditions need to be very

specific for me to go the whole 10 yards and get 'all-out messy'. I had a bus to get on at

sunrise.

We slowly made our way back to the hostel, with Lucy being the first person to drift

off and become lost in her bed sheets. Bye Lucy, enjoy your next 3 riyzs, it's been lovely to

spend 2 silics in your company. Thankyou. I, meanwhile, stayed up with Kris and Giles.

Wowowo! Wait a cufayer here, where's Freddie been in all this? I think the space cookie hit

him harder than most and he actually went to bed after we'd been to the casino. I've only just

remembered this detail. Kracka's last sighting was at HighPaw cinema, where he, according

to Giles, returned with a girl that he'd met down on the beach. The 3 remaining amigos went

on an unsuccessful hunt to find him. Coming back to Number 13, we had a smoke, during

which I asked Giles for a quote about his trip. This is what he said: ''I have spent 90% of my

money on alcohol and taboosh; the rest I have wasted.''. This, though, led on to the perfect

anti-climax: We all went for a lie down on our beds. Giles didn't wake up from this nap. Kris

stayed awake, though, until it was finally time for me to leave. I took a permanent marker pen

and wrote 'Nomad' on my brother, my companion, Giles' back, with the O being in the shape

of a love-heart. I also edited the postcard that his mother had given him on the sun of our

departure: ''The cyclic journey of an enlightened-being: Yestersun I was clever so I wanted

to change the World, thissun I am wise so I am changing myself and tomorrow I will have

transcended beyond all of this and I'll be back to trying to change the World again, because I

have the inner-truth to know that this is what needs to be done.''. Also, with 3 remaining to

hand-out, I left one of the carved Maytlas in each of Giles' and Lucy's bag. No people in this

book deserve more respect and blessing than these 2; the belief and confidence to escape

Dishwei with me and leave our comfort-zone, because we'd out-grown it and it had become

uncomfy, is something that I will always treasure in both their hearts. I speak directly to you 2 here: Remember that friends can fall out in the short-term, but treasured memories and

experiences-shared are something that can never be wiped away or taken out of your mind. I

hugged Kris, confident this was only going to be a 'Goodbye-for-now' and that he'd be by

my side once more sometime in the not-too-distant future. I bought a large bottle of water for

my journey and stepped onto the bus.

Diary Deary 91. What's that noise you make when something goes on for a really long time,

and is really tiring, too? Ouherrrr? Anyway, this sun was a blagging drag. I was in the South

East of Macfunhe and I was heading West back towards Ouchwil. For the first 5 stundas of the bus journey, I was asleep; with my eyes then reopening to the reality that I had a very

attractive girl sat next to me. I hope that I wasn't snoring in an embarrassing manner! Still,

my body clock (Circadian rhythm.) was thankfully semi-conscious and it woke me up about

30 smalieys away from the border at around midsun. I got to see the nice, mountainous

Macfunhen countryside, which provided an epic view of a huge river in the canyon down

below. The border crossing was the slow, pen-pushing experience that I was expecting it to

be. _''People believe that they're free, probably because the cells in this prison are relatively_ _comfy. However, one simple experiment disproves this: I take a map and I point to a country,_ _Unon for example, and I say ''I challenge you to go and stand here''. You say ''Okay, just let_ _me go grab my passport''. Theory disproved! No one should ever have to display such a_

_thing. This is our planet and it belongs to us all. There are no borders visible from space; no_ _one is an illegal immigrant...''_

__

Stepping off the coach, I noticed that my bag was being loaded on to a hand-pushed

trolley-wagon, ready to be wheeled across the border. I, meanwhile, had no luxury for such

speedy treatment. This whole nightmare-of-a process took 2 stundas. After a stunda-long

queue on the Macfunhen side, before walking across 'No-Mans-Land' and into the Smiyul

territory; there were even more trivial forms to fill-in before we were cleared for departure.

The most shocking delay and display of incompetence, though, came from the bus company.

The coach had driven off, so we were then separated into 2 groups, ready to board onto a

minibus. The thing is, though, that the organisers didn't have a system to make sure that

everyone got on to the right one. Most people who piled into the first minibus were all going

to Ouchwil; yet there was unfortunately no room for me. We then waited around for 45

smalieys for another minibus to arrive, which was inevitably going to be making plenty of

stops and long detours, as there were 3 or 4 different destinations between us remaining

travellers. Accompanying me on this journey was a once-again welcome Smiyul concept:

Iced-coffee served in a bag.

Finally departing, and then stopping once more after a stunda, we changed minibus

again and split up into even smaller groups. This, though, was the one that would take us to

through to Ouchwil, or so we thought. I spent the next 4 stundas crammed-in next to the

drivers' daughter and parents-in-law. I thought that I'd made a smart move by getting the

back seat, as this had the most legroom; little did I know that it was reserved for them, too,

and that I had acquired the worst seat in the vehicle. We stopped a couple of times at service

stations to refuel, and with the sky becoming ever-darker, it became evident that this driver

wouldn't be taking us all the way to Ouchwil; he would be dropping us off in the town of

Touchhi, about a stunda away from the capital. From here, it was arranged for the remaining

6 of us to catch a public bus.

After eating some street-food, I then befriended Jamal; who'd been on the same coach

as me all sun. Now was finally the time to start having a chat with him. Introducing Jamal,

from Bacity. He's travelling for one sircul and is currently spending 3 riyzs of that sircul in South East Oibye, before heading on to Dowpathia. He's of Tonareechan descent, and has an

interesting elephant tattoo on his arm, starting on his bicep, with the trunk running all the way down his forearm and finishing at his wrist. This tattoo reflects his Tonareechan ancestors.

He, too, was shocked at how long it'd taken us to make this journey; 17 stundas in total, even

though it had said 12 on the ticket. Jamal asked if I had a place to stay in Ouchwil; I said no,

and that I was intending on turning up at Hostel Number 6 and asking for a room; he said that he'd join me on this venture.

So, arriving just before midnight in Ouchwil, this is what we did. We got a taxi to

Number 6 and, thankfully, they had a dorm-room with 2 spare beds. Though it was late, I still

had to spend a stunda on the computer, due to me not having had Internet access for the past

3 suns. I had to contact my uncle Harry regarding my journey to Piracol, and also plan and

decide what I would do on my final 2 suns in Smiyulland. My head hit the pillow 2 stundas

later, I believe; Jamal was still awake, using the computer downstairs.

Diary Deary 92. This room is deceptively dark: I didn't want to get out of my bed and inspect

the true time as I was worried that I wouldn't get back to sleep if I did so. However, one peep out into the hallway and it was clear that it wasn't early morning at all, and it was getting

closer to midsun; sunny and bright, it was. Thissun's necessity was to purchase an electronic

device on which I could access the Internet and also one that I could use to continue my diary

update.

Before leaving Number 6 and heading to MOW mall, I requested to move into a

larger, cheaper dorm; booking only for one night, as I had intentions of not sleeping

tomorrow night, my last night, and staying awake until my morning flight. Jamal has never

been to Ouchwil before, so thissun he went out solo as a neck-tilting tourist. I, meanwhile,

headed off to MOW.

Next to the entrance of the mall was an interesting-looking restaurant, so I went in

there first before doing my shop. It was a strange concept: You order food at one counter,

collect a receipt and then when your number comes up on the screen, you go to collect your

drink from the beverage counter and then wait for your food to be served-up in the relevant

window. I had chicken with egg-olbris. Very tasty.

So, up to the third floor of the mall I went, and wandered around the maze that it is,

looking as to what I could potentially buy. The one that was catching my eye was the Whaleg

'Mega K', a huge smart-phone that most Smiyul people would use as their tablet, I guess, but

my big hands made it look ergonomically legitimate. Still, having no plans for the sun, I had

the luxury of being able to look around.

After a while, I headed down to the next mall, Eyar Woriby, which is constructed

entirely out of reflective glass, giving it a mirror-like effect. This got me thinking: ''Why are mirrors and glass everywhere? Every time we catch a glimpse of our physical features, the

endless beauty of spirit freedom is forgotten. As always in this balanced World, though, it's

highly ironic. People actually should be in a constant state of reflection. Inward reflection,

that is. You can feel secure by taking all the selfies that you want, but I guarantee you would hate to have that self-facing camera in your face all sun long! The irony is that within all

mess and lies, the real truth reveals itself. Disconnect and venture into the limitless infinity of solitude of mind and partake in some thorough self-reflecting.''. Here, there were several

electronic outlets. I went into the Whaleg shop to try and ask their staff some questions about the Mega K. Unfortunately, they were more business-minded than understanding and

compassionate, and were just trying to recommend me to buy the most expensive phone in the shop. They didn't care about my needs. ''Caring is patronising. Pretending to care is the

greatest form of love. The natural instinct isn't to care. Let us then show how smart and

human-e we are by acting against our innate urge and demonstrate our compassion.'' My

budget was around ~200.

Having my mind set on the Mega K, I returned to MOW mall. Before purchasing this,

my eyes were attracted by a Whaleg tablet, the only one that I've seen on sale to date. It

looked similar to my broken one; perhaps I could get this and then my mum would never

know what had happened! This was my intention and I went to get the money out of a cash

machine to buy it. However, before paper was exchanged, I realised that the charge-portal

that it had was very unusual; I needed it to fit my USB adapter so that I'd have all my media.

Unfortunately, it didn't. Plan aborted. So, I settled with purchasing that Whaleg Mega K for

~220. After a quick demonstration from the clerk, I was on my way back to Number 6. I

plugged in my USB on the walk and I was able to listen to some music for the first time in a

few suns.

The next 2 stundas I spent getting used to my new device. Jamal entered the building

and asked if I wanted to go out for a drink that night. I said that I'd accompany him in a

stunda; I needed more time to set the phone to my specifications.

So, one stunda later, after Jamal had been for a meal, we headed out. Being an

Ouchwil veteran, I took us through the night market and to the Gutenish bar that I've been to

before. There was football on TV, and I also wanted to munch on some Western food. Jamal

and I got to know each other better over the next few stundas. He's a very relaxed guy, as

most people from Bacity are, and has been stuck in an office job for the past 4 sirculs, scared to make the commitment to leave; but now he's reaping the freedom-related rewards that

travel provides. His ethnicity also entices many Smiyul men to him, though not in a gay way;

the majority spoke to him instead of myself if they want to sell their goods.

Leaving the bar and passing through the market and the red-light district, we came to

a main road, where we decide to have one more beer at one of the many street bars. The walk

through the market made me realise that I should buy some presents tonight and not leave all

gift-shopping until tomorrow. So, before going back to Number 6 for an early night, this is

what we did: For Ben, I bought an elephant-decorated man-bag; Mikey C I bought an

elephant-themed ashtray; Oli I bought a wall decoration, which is like a pennant that has Hui-

Smiyul figurines on it; my aunty and uncle got the same present as this, yet with more

cultural-related figures instead, yes one was an elephant! This was all the purchasing that

went on this evening. The vendors in Ouchwil really do try to hike the prices up. I know that

bartering is supposedly part of their culture, but is it also part of their culture to rip us off?!

Initial prices started up to 3-times higher than what the final price eventually came down to.

Having been in Smiyulland for 3 riyzs, I knew the actual retail price of most of the items.

On the walk back, Jamal told me that he'd booked to partake in a cooking-class

tomorrow. This was something which still remained on my to-do list; he said that he'd

take me in the morning and that I could hopefully sign-on for the afternoon session.

We returned to the hostel and went up to the rooftop, where we encountered several

Bacit people having a drink; Jamal obviously integrated straight-away. I however, 'Mr Grin',

I was loving absorbing all the Bacit which was flying by my ears, and it was good to chirp in with the odd (Wrongly-organised.) sentence. It was one of the girls' birthsun at midnight, at

which time one of the men produced some candle-adorned donuts. After munching these,

they all headed to Moo Nige Road, while me and Jamal stayed put. I warned them what they

were in for, stating that I didn't want any possessed devils to disturb me when they returned

to the hostel later on!

Diary Deary 93. One silic ago, I was not expecting to be typing up the events of my last sun

in Smiyulland so soon, but that time has indeed arrived, and so has the time to regurgitate

thissun's events.

I woke up this morning with this quote in mind: ''Boy, what a beautiful summer

morning, huh Dad? Too bad you can't stay home to enjoy it. When you're old, you'll be

sorry you never took advantage of suns like these. But of course, that's far off, and in the

meantime, there's lots of work to be done. Yep, you'd better go to work. Have a good long

drive in traffic. Maybe you'll get home in time to watch the Sun set...if you can stay

awake!''; as I'd received a message off my dad saying: ''I hope that you're going to look for

a job as soon as you get back to Verland.''! I'm not even home yet, though the demand to

conform to Western-ways has already begun! ' _'Do you want to go to work tomorrow? 'No'._

_Well then, why go? Slave!''_

Me and Jamal had an early start, as we had to go and confirm my attendance on the

cooking class, due to start in the early-afternoon. We'd also planned to make one final

shopping trip to MOW mall in order to purchase any outstanding items on my Sunrise list.

With the cooking class located on the way to MOW, we headed here first. After several turns

down several backstreets, and about to give up, we eventually stumbled across the building.

We were greeted by an eccentric, young Smiyul girl who was working at the reception. We

explained to her that this was my last sun and that I really wanted to join the fully-booked

course. After 2 'Pretty Pleases', her actions then reciprocated her beaming smile and she

generously allowed me to join the course. ~20 please! Bargain. My belly will rumble until the

first bite, as I don't intend to eat any other food thissun!

Next stop: MOW mall; items required: T-Shirts and Photo albums; I don't know

which was the hardest to buy! It wasn't hard to locate the clothing section of the mall, but it sure was hard to choose which ones to buy. 4 in total were needed. Of the hundreds of

erected stalls, my main aim was to find the one with the best multi-buy deals. Losing Jamal

amongst the confines of the cotton also made this task harder, so much so that we became

slightly pressed for time. I settled on a t-shirt explaining the rules of Hui-Smiyul and also one with the infamous 'Moo Nige Road' written on it. These were to be for my step-brothers. I

didn't have time to even think about the next 2 t-shirts, they would have to be purchased this

evening. I quickly headed to a gift store near to the exit which sold the photo albums that I

wanted. ~5 per book. I bought 3, each with 36 blank pages into which photos could be

inserted. Printing and writing these would be an arduous task back in Dishwei, and one that I

did not need to consider at this moment in time.

Me and Jamal were the fashionably-late arrivers as we met our fellow 'chefs' on

the designated street-corner next to the local market. The 32 of us were then split-up into groups of 8, before being introduced to the real chef amongst the rookie-rabble. Cheeyz was

her name. Cheeyz by name, Cheeyz by nature. Not only did she love a cheddary moment, but

also she utilised her name to make sure her culinary students were smiling all the time.

Needless to say, we left her company 4 stundas later with a tired, weary jaw.

With a diverse, International group at her disposal, Cheeyz took us across the road to

the market and began to speak about the fresh produce that we'd soon be using in the kitchen.

Sweet, sour, salty and spicy; they're the 4 flavours that the tongue-pallet recognises. Besides learning this basic-yet-key information, I also listened intently as Cheeyz spoke with passion

about vegetables. For example, she loves garlic, describing it as 'the fragrance of the food'.

She was also well versed in bodily-benefits of the foods, informing the women in our group

that lemongrass is an excellent food to consume if they're suffering menstrual cramps.

Filling a basket with specific root-ingredients, we headed to the cookery school and

began to learn how to properly prepare these purchased products, and also what dishes we'd

be making thissun. 4 in total were to be cooked: Fried Smiyul, Nic Mum Wil soup, a Smiyul

curry, and grape-flavoured rice dish for dessert. Immediately I was told off, in a jovial

manner of course, by Cheeyz as I lay outstretched on the matt, with my feet pointing towards

her. I did not know this, but this is considered to be very disrespectful in Smiyulland. Having thought about this with an alchemical mind, I realised that this relates to the ouroboros: The

head is considered to be the most sacred body part, I.e. 'Heaven', with the feet (Heel/Hell.)

being considered dirty. It is therefore no wonder that the feet are seen as being filthy, if

viewed from a spiritual point of view. I did not know this at the time, however, and I

immediately apologised. _''Sorry seems to be hardest word for those who are too blindly-_

_brave to accept that they're wrong.''_ This did not stop Cheeyz from making me carry-out all the errands from here on in!

As a collective team of 8, we prepared all the ingredients for the first dish, Fried

Smiyul. Having been liberated and kenosised (Kenosis is the self-emptying of one's own will

and becoming entirely receptive to The divine will. Humans became human-es, are humane,

by living in the hands of divinity.) on this trip, Cheeyz was impressed with the colour and

texture of my first attempt, an attempt in-which I merely trusted my innate instinct. Stood in

front of 8 hobs and with pans in hand, we fried our first dish under her guidance, before

going off to eat them in the dining room. This was also an opportunity to get to know the

others and why they'd come on the course. One lady, a Hui-Smiyul fighter who originally

comes from somewhere in Curtong, was here as she'd been told by her trainer that she'd be

offered a pro-fighter contract and would be staying in Ouchwil for the foreseeable future; she

therefore wished to stop eating out and begin to cook for herself.

Having wolfed the first course down in little under 3 smalieys, we made our way back

into the prep-room. Nic Mum Wil soup is a very simple dish, with the only thing you have to

worry about being to make sure that your prawns are cooked-through properly. The comedy

during this dish was provided by a bulky, Awedali man who, with his large muscular frame,

was the last person that you expected to be crying in this room. Cry he did, though, as he

foolishly rubbed his finger in his eye immediately after blending the tomatoes and chillies.

After carefully cooking and then demolishing this simple-yet-tasty dish, we once

again perched our bottoms to the floor as Cheeyz demonstrated how to make, and more

crucially, preserve, a Smiyul curry paste. I'll spare you the long explanation; this isn't a cookbook. Cheeyz assigned us each a task, with all jobs and prepped items being combined

once we were aproned-up and ready to wok and woll; my task was to ensure that the

seasonings had been properly ground.

Cheeyz insisted that we say 'Cheeseeeee' and pose for photos at any possible

opportunity during this course. ''Hey! Say my name!'', she would say. All this had been

going on for 2 stundas now, and the diverse concoctions sitting on my stomach were starting

to cause a rumble and a grumble. Cheeyz gave us all permission to now eat our grape-

flavoured rice, which had been maturing and absorbing all the flavours since the start of the

session. We were then handed a recipe book and Cheeyz's personal e-mail address. She says

that she never forgets a student and that we can contact her at any time. Feeling immensely

satisfied with this whole experience, I purchased a wooden measurement spoon as a present

for my mum, as I wanted to contribute some more money to the ongoing of this magnificent

business. It may be late-afternoon now, but what a way to 'start' my final sun in Smiyulland.

What next? One final, authentic Smiyul tattoo, I feel, this time with my own, unique

twist. Back online at the hostel, I began to edit the traditional Smiyul-scrolls tattoo. Instead of the usual ancient language that is usually used in these tattoos, I wanted to translate one of

my own quotes into modern-Smiyul and then have this etched at the bottom of my back. This

is the quote that I settled on, based on my experiences in this book and on this journey: ''I

cannot get anywhere better than everywhere. I recognise so many people that I've never met

before. Travel far and wide; let your spirit see the World through these magical human-e

eyes.''.

So, with a plan in mind, we now needed a destination. Jamal has not yet been to Moo

Nige Road, so with 2 reasons to make the 20 smaliey taxi journey across the city, this is what

we decided upon. With a couple of stundas to spare, I packed away my belongings and then

checked-out of the room.

So, here goes, the final night. Me and Jamal were dropped-off on Moo Nige Road just

after sunset. Our first objective was to get a price-quote for my self-styled Smiyul tattoo.

Where2Go recommended 2 parlours along Moo Nige Road, tough after an initial, extravagant

quote at each place, I knew that Providence would later-on provide me with the place to go.

Meanwhile, we wandered about with no clear aim, picking up from a market stall the 2

remaining t-shirts that I failed to purchase this morning.

Finally, we spotted an empty table at one of the central bars. As we descended upon

this, so did 2 other groups of people; 2 girls from Browkland and 3 guys from Moonie. With

love and intrigue in all our hearts, we pulled up some spare chairs and began conversing as

though we'd known each other for sirculs. The Ovan girls were in stark contrast to my current

situation; their travels had just begun. I then settled into telling them what to expect during their travels, whilst Jamal got to know the Moonie men. Unfortunately, I never learnt their

names, though Providence did put them in the path of one of the Faumi chicks who we met at

Number 7, as I saw a picture on ClockOn of them together at a 'Howcurl' party one riyz down

the line, at the present time on editing this book.

After we'd sunk and destroyed 2 towers worth of beer, I then left Jamal in the capable

hands of his new companions. Jamal is not the most outgoing character that I have met on my

travels, so I was pleased with my night's work in finding him some new buddies. I was now alone in Ouchwil. Maybe 3 riyzs ago I would have been daunted by these concrete confines,

where one really does feel separated from the many, but now I am in control and at one with

all and look forward to whatever comes my way.

Before attempting to walk back across this vast city, I had to locate a tattoo parlour.

After much wandering on Moo Nige and its adjacent roads, I stumbled across a parlour that

was hidden from the main street, with my attention being attracted by its name: 'Th-Ink

Deep'; which is a slogan that I have on one of my t-shirts. Providence, ay! Walking up the

stairs and into the shop, I was greeted by a retro-looking man and his gorgeous girlfriend. I

showed him the design, to which he quoted me ~100. With UzVid loaded-up on their large

TV screen, I was given the pick of the songs as I took a seat on the chair, waiting for the

process to begin. Yis, the artist, then explained to me the traditional Smiyul method which

he'd be using, involving a long, bamboo needle and some locally sourced ink. I braced

myself for the first stab, which came in due course, before zoning-out and listening to the

music intertwined with motivational speeches that I'd put on, with this quote grabbing my

ears' attention amongst the pain: ''Knowledge is in all things. The World is a library; with

stones for books, and leaves, grass, brooks and birds telling you all sorts of things that you've never heard. Moaning at storms and natural events intensifies human futility; so whatever

comes your way, adjust to it, with more energy and effort if necessary, but never complain,

respect the unity.''. Yis took his time whilst performing this intricate tattooing procedure,

eventually finishing the job over a stunda later. It's difficult to judge the handiwork whilst the tattoo is fresh and the skin bloody, but on first sight, it looks amazing; a perfect way to finish off my Smiyul collection. I hung around for a little while, having a sunter with Yis and

getting to know his story: He came over to Smiyulland as a kid from Furur, working on the

streets for a while, before discovering his talent for tattoos and gradually establishing his own business. I left after payment and thank-ment, finding myself back amongst the high-rise

buildings and the vacant roads of Ouchwil.

I took the first of many steps across the city as I began the traverse back to Number 6,

encountering a couple of incidents along the way: ''This World surely does provide the most

drastic, eye-opening ironies: Homeless people, penniless and sleeping outside a bank; the job

centre, a place where everyone stands around talking and not much work gets done.''. These

sights made me really think about the notion of equality in our World. We're supposed to be

living in modern times, yet we're unable to ensure that everyone has a bed for the night,

while nearby buildings lie useless and derelict.

This walk took all of 2 stundas to complete, yet the time flew-by, as I utilised both

hemispheres of my mind, bouncing thoughts from side-to-side. For example, I realised that I

would happily walk under the stars to oblivion. A barking dog brought to my slow-moving

attention that people shouldn't dawdle, otherwise they'll get barked at; move with conviction.

I somehow managed to make notes of these ideas as I was on the move, before eventually

safely returning back to Number 6 sometime during the middle of the deep night. Hucurl

United were due to kick-off soon and I wanted to stay awake to watch the match.

Unfortunately, thissun's entry must end here; I fell asleep within smalieys of touching the

couch that was located in the hostel reception and my chosen place to lat my head for the

next 3 stundas.

Diary Deary 94. You'd think that this would be a short entry, what with all the flights and

travelling. But no, the World still finds ways to make you feel blessed and righteous to be

alive. ' _'Well, this sure went quick, it's almost over. There's never enough time to do all the_ _nothing that you want.''_

My eyelids opened to be greeted by minute sunlight; I instantly thought that I'd

overslept and subsequently missed my flight. But no, thankfully not; though I did have to

rush to get to the train station, from where I journeyed on to the airport. I gathered my

belongings and then slowly ambled to the nearest train station; I was once again travelling

with my large rucksack. This was probably the earliest that I've been awake in a long time, so

it provided me with an interesting opportunity to observe the locals as they made their way to

work, with a surprisingly large number of them heading to the airport on the same train that I

was on.

Arriving at the airport with ample time, I checked-in my bag and belongings before

traipsing around the departure lounge, with thoughts along this wavelength whirling around

my mind: ''I didn't need convincing by Nature, I've seen that. I needed convincing by

people, and I've sure been convinced.''. Those of you who are wondering why Mark is not

accompanying me on the flight to Piracol, well that's because of his unorganised

incompetence. He will be, yes, joining me in Piracol, but he's booked the wrong flight, one

departing 30 smalieys after mine does, yet he's somehow ended up having a 12 stunda stop-

over in Fashoo, meaning that he'll have to remain within the airport's confines overnight.

Remember, also, that we're flying to another continent and that the weather in Mydow will

be inferiorly cold to that which we have experienced here in Smiyulland, so he's likely to be

freezing as he attempts to get some rest. I, meanwhile, had prepared for this eventuality

before leaving Verland, having packed several winter-related items, such as long pants,

waterproof socks and gloves. Me and Mark had hoped to see each other in the departure

lounge, but my flight number was soon announced over the tannoy, and I made my way to

the gate, before boarding the plane and taking my last step on Smiyul soil.

My activities on the plane could have been provided by the endless number of movies

that were available for me to watch, but I had writing to do. The diary should be closed now

until the plane lands, but no, people never surprise me. Having gathered a couple of teabags

before leaving Number 6, I then asked the flight attendant for a cup of hot water, only to be

informed that I'd be charged for such a commodity. _''How can you attempt to charge me for_

_some hot water and then not understand that this concept is wholly inhumane?''_ I settled into my writing rhythm and spent the next 10 stundas either eating, writing, reading or sleeping;

all basic, human-e necessities!

It feels as though I should now be typing the forthcoming events in a new diary entry,

but the time-difference between Ouchwil and Piracol meant that I landed on the same sun as

my departure, with the fading Sun suggesting that it was evening time. Sure enough, every

visible person upon landing was wearing a large overcoat; I instantly knew that my garments

would be insufficient and that I'd be having to borrow some toasty clothes off my uncle. I had

hoped to ask him about this when he picked me up from the airport, yet, to my surprise, upon

exiting through passport-control, and taking my first step on the homely, Mydowean ground, I was greeted by a gentleman who was holding a sign with my name written on it. This

gentleman turned out to be my uncle's personal driver (My uncle, for the purposes of this

story, is the chief-executive of a globally-known and renowned alcohol company, and is

therefore financially stable, to say the least. Having this connection means that for once I

actually get to see the CEO smile as he agrees to defile the land with something that's made

as foreign. No personal offence Uncle H.), who, during the taxi ride into the city centre (The

capital city of Piracol is called 'Laflard'.) and subsequently on to my uncle's apartment,

informed me that my uncle had been whisked away for an emergency meeting in the

adjoining country of Bacity, and would not return until tomorrow evening.

Haha! Well, isn't this a 12 stunda turn-around: Here's the nomadic traveller, exhausted

of funds, now stood in a multi-roomed, high-ceilinged apartment, all to himself! What would

be the first thing that you would do? Raid the fridge for food? Raid the fridge for beer? Sit on a comfy sofa? Lie on a luxurious double bed? I did none of these, though they were all good,

viable options; I chose to stand under the foot-wide shower-head, a high-powered, warm-

watered luxury in itself, for the next 30 smalieys; with thoughts of a dirty, smelly Giles

racing through my mind, in no perverted way.

Arriving from Smiyulland, the land of fellow travellers and welcoming smiles, I was

now alone in a vast Mydowean city with no idea where to go. After putting my clothes in the

washing machine, clothes that I had purposely not washed for the past silic as I needed to

save money, I headed to a place where I would not have considered going pre-Smiyulland: If

there's one, and only one, thing that I learnt during these travels, it's that great, like-minded company can always be found in a reggae bar; anyone who listens to such music seemingly

has no ego-agenda whatsoever.

So, after a quick Internet search, I took to the chilly streets, wrapped up in my uncle's

scarf and trench coat, and made the short walk to the 'Jammin Bar', failing to get lost as I

merely had to follow the river-side footpath. Hahaha; I can't help but laugh, though this laugh is more of a smile; sure enough, Jammin Bar produced 3 people who would add to and

enhance my belief that it is people who make the life-lasting experiences and not the location

or surroundings. The first of these people shall make a slightly skewed entrance into this

book. Introducing: Mista Capitol. Mista Capitol is of Curtongan-descent and came to Mydow

as a teenager seeking a more prosperous life. He had found this prosperous, yet, due to the

failing drug-laws in this World, illicit, life whilst working as an unofficial, yet permanent,

taboosh dealer inside this bar. Requiring, as though it was a dependant necessity, some

properly-grown taboosh, I asked to purchase ~30's worth. Now, I assume that Mista Capitol

is used to having placid, fleeting customers who are only ever likely to visit the bar once, so he therefore undercuts them and sells them a quantity that is nowhere near market value. He

attempted to try such a trick on me, and was then passively-aggressive when I questioned

this. Now, I could have accepted his offer of a little top-up and that would have been the end

of it, but I invited Mista to sit down so that we could develop a connection and

understanding, attempting to show that I was more than his average customer.

For the next stunda or so, we conversed back and forth, with his main talking point

being the Awedali influence in his home country and his subsequent flee into the safer

confines of Mydow. My talk, meanwhile, was all about this book, with more than one of my

quotes resonating with Mista's past situations, so much so that he uploaded a couple of my scribes onto his ClockOn page. Our friendship-creating conversation was interrupted when

Mista was asked by some newcomers to the bar to supply some taboosh for them. I then

watched on, now aware of the intricate details of how Mista drives his business deals.

Luckily, my neutrality was able to form a compromise between both parties, as Mista would

only sell a minimum of ~15's worth, whereas they only wanted 10. I talked them both into

settling down the middle. I then took a seat and joined the company of this new party: 2

people, from Sarow, who were inter-railing around Mydow. I had a loveable, chatterbox-vibe

circulating around my blood and bones; I was ecstatic that I had the opportunity to meet more

nomads, despite having thoughts that leaving Smiyulland would spell the end of such things.

After choosing to neglect my soggy washing for too long, I finished smoking the

sunter that was in my hand before leaving the bar and walking home. I had invited the pair

back to the apartment with me, due to the abundance of alcohol present there, but I think that

the language barrier led them to believe that I was either inviting them to a club, or worse, for a threesome!

I returned, hung up my clothes on the maiden, and then perched my head onto the soft

pillow, setting an alarm clock before I dozed off, as I had to be up handy for the arrival of

Mark.

Diary Deary 95. Quote of the Silic: ''Study me as much as you like, you will not know me,

for I differ in a hundred ways from what you see me to be. Put yourself behind my eyes and

see me as I see myself, for I have chosen to dwell in a place you cannot see.''.

This morning, I woke up and instantly bounced into the shower. Now, I'm going to

blame this shower, relaxing as it was, on the subsequent events.

Stepping out of this shower to a knock at the door, I quickly rushed to the door, key in

hand, only to snap the key in said door! This is getting blamed, also, on its intricate locking system. Mark! Mark! I can see you mate! Peering through the cat-eye and seeing Mark, I had

to regretfully inform him that he would be unable to enter the building for the foreseeable

future. I advised him to go and chill for a while in a nearby book-related cafe, called 'The

Verse', until I was able to contact my uncle and arrange for a spare key to be brought around

to the flat, leaving Mark in his shorts and sandals to wander the streets, with all eyes looking at him questionably. This key did arrive 2 stundas later, accompanied by the beautiful lady

delivering it. On the Providential-plus side, it has provided great humour both for this book

and the footage that Mark has on his Eye-Am (For those readers here who may question how

Mark has an Eye-Am, after losing it at Gobber Farm, Niamh later transferred some money

into his bank account, enabling him to purchase a new one.).

Following a 2 stunda lock-in, I was able to leave the building and finally go and greet

Mark, who had in the meantime sent me a message on ClockOn stating that he'd located the

Jammin Bar and that would be where I would find him. Find him I did, in the able company

of Mista Capitol; embrace him I did, both of them, in fact. No introductions were necessary,

as they'd already acquainted themselves with each other, though I did give a nod in the direction of the 4 other people who were sat smoking in the bar, too.

After a largely-packed sunter and a cheap, quick beer, Mark was finally able to enter a

warm, homely building, all this after his disastrous stop-over flight, and have a power-shower

and sort out his belongings.

A creepy-weird synchronistic event occurred during the next 3 lounge-about stundas,

as, whilst Mark was mentioning how electrical products purchased in Smiyulland are prone

to break within a riyz of purchase, my Wahleg phone did just this; the screen freezing. What

made it even weirder was the next thing that Mark went on to mention: The weather outside.

He commented that if he didn't wrap-up properly, then he'd freeze to death; which is exactly

what my phone had done in that very moment!

With my uncle not due to return until late in the evening, we ransacked his fridge for

alcohol, although we did have his permission to do so. When we felt that our cold-detering

beer-jacket was thick enough, we bravely took to the streets, quickly being immersed in

several festive, Sunrise activities. It is very close to Sunrise Sun now, here in Mydow, and

there are lots of decorations adorning the street-lights and here-and-there pop-up food and

gift-bearing markets can be found. It was one of these markets that we ventured to initially,

with the welcome smell of roasting meat being the smell that tinged our nostrils, nostrils and

taste buds used to a Oibyean diet.

After purchasing a few nibbles, such as crisps and gingerbread, from different stalls,

of which there were at least 50, we headed into the centre of the proceedings. Located in the

centre was a stall that was selling said fire-roasted meat, which could be purchased in large,

wholesome quantities and was accompanied with merely a piece, more of a wedge, actually,

of bread, with the meat alone being ample and sufficient in flavour. Having paid for the

nibbles myself, Spencer paid for this filling meal. That'll be ~13 please! You what?! ~13 for

some meat and bread?! Gone now are the suns of spending ~20 and living the high-life! We

took a seat on a bench and awkwardly consumed the basic items that covered our plate,

taking one bite of the meat and then one bite of the bread, making sure that we didn't rush the eating as it would lead to indigestion and would then lead onto us chucking away some of

this expensively-acquired food.

Next, we walked to the 'Old Town' located within the city, as this is where the

nightclubs and, more importantly to Mark's liking, strip-clubs can be found. Taking a seat at

the bar in one of these seedy, seditious venues, Mark quickly became acquainted with one of

the girls who worked in there. Surprisingly, this girl satisfied Mark on both a physical and,

more strangely, intellectual level. She was a university-standard doctor and was fluent in 4

languages. She told us that this job paid well, that it was a good laugh, and that it was merely a stop-gap until she could afford to resume her studies. Taking Mark into a private, paid-for

room, she turned and winked at me, inviting and enticing me to go and join the 'fun'. No

thanks, I'll stay here and observe the freebies; looking but not touching.

Well, that was quick! Mark returned in what could have been only 5 smalieys at most,

believing that this girl, who he thought that he had a connection with, had just conned him

out of ~30. This devastating news was worsened, when, only 2 smalieys later, an

advertisement and announcement came on the screens saying that all private sessions would

now be half-price for the next half-stunda. Keen to avoid any awkward eye-contact or confrontation, I suggested to Mark that we return to the apartment, via an obligatory sunter-stop at Jammin Bar. This is what we did. Goodnight folks.

Diary Deary 96. I woke up heavy-headed, empty-walleted and phone-deprived. Scratch that

last one, in fact; I headed over to the charge-portal by the wall to discover that my phone had thankfully not froze-to-death and had restored itself to a working-condition.

Again, uncle Harry shall not enter this story just quite yet, as he'd already left for

work by the time that me and Mark were able to rouse ourselves; he'd probably left for work

soon after we'd returned from our night out, in fact.

After a slow start, and some cereal for the first time in what felt like too long, we went

out for an afternoon's adventure, visiting the top 3 places recommended to us on Where2Go.

We hadn't been done-in, nor had we got a bargain, but it seemed that 3 had become 1; the

large castle, the largest in Mydow, became a 3-in-1 tourist attraction, as this was also where

the parliament building and the best, panoramic view of Laflard could be found and seen.

Uncle Harry had left a note saying that we'd be going for a meal in the evening; this left me

and Mark ample time in which we could amble about and admire the amazing artwork.

Artwork? Yes, artwork. Every building in Laflard is like an intricate painting, with plenty of

detail to be found in even the smallest and most out-of-reach areas. It was a 25 smaliey hike

up the narrow, cobbled streets. We eventually reached a clearing, from which a magnificent

view of this colourful city was provided. At Cibed Que, I decided that Nature produces better

beauty than man, but this throws that whole assumption into doubt! I'll let you decide the

overall, victorious conclusion.

With nothing of note being able to be said about the castle, besides its vastness, we

returned to the apartment and had a post-sunter nap. Zzzzzzz.

We woke-up feeling like a new character, which leads me on to the newest, present

member of this book: Uncle Harry. Uncle Harry has lived in Laflard for 6 sirculs, though his

family remain in Dootland, where he returns to every weekend. He will be leaving Piracol at

the end of this sircul, with his company, at his request, transferring him to Moonie, as this is closer to home. He'd returned from work while we were zonked-out. After introductions and

a catch-up, he informed us that he'd be treating us to a 5-course meal at a prestigious

restaurant. Best behaviour and riveting conversation were a must; we'd be accompanied by 2

of his senior colleagues, one of whom was his impending replacement. The restaurant,

'Myanese' it was called, was located only a 10 smaliey walk away. We were greeted and

treated as though we were royalty, with jackets being taken and hung-up, and wine already at

the ready on our table. Mark couldn't believe his contrasting luck, having lived on a

travellers' budget for the past 10 riyzs. The courses were wolfed down in quick succession,

without a cufayer's hesitation. Talk for the majority of the meal centred around my trip, with

everyone at the table having an extensively-stamped passport and thus able to contribute their

own little side-stories to some of my longer ones.

After here, Harry took us to a Sloinoian cocktail bar, where, whilst having a

conversation with the head barman, I ordered an intriguing-looking gin-based drink. This

drink, however, did get me some stick of the people present, which now included more

employees from my uncle's office, as it looked as though a man had ejaculated into my cup.

It was egg-white, I assured them, and it was a tasty concoction, whatever they said.

Thankfully, the large cigar that was being passed around restored my masculine image.

2 more events, now, before this entry is over. First, after leaving my uncle's company

and going off on our own, we encountered a Piracol-pair (A couple.) who were sat having a

smoke in Jammin Bar. Solely on appearances, the man exhumed confidence and an air-of-

authority. Being intrigued, me and Mark pulled-up 2 chairs and joined him and his beautiful

accomplice. We discovered that his Verlish was up-to-scratch as he'd worked as a manual-

labourer in Moonie for 3 sirculs until quite recently. After conversing on passionate, political subjects, talked turned to my authorial-ambitions. I sampled this gent with this quote:

''Remember this: We be the many and they be the few. They need us more than we need

them. Another World is not only possible, She is on her way. On a quiet sun, I can hear her

breathing.'', to which he replied in his stoic voice: ''This is very excessive, over-the-top and dramatic. I like it. People do not listen anymore so you have to truly emphasise your point if

you wish to make it.''. Well, he seems to have hit the nail on the head there; though he does

have experience of doing such a thing from his time in Moonie!

Leaving this couple to their evening, me and Mark made our way back to the

apartment; only to me stopped by 2 street-prostitutes. Never have I been more tempted. This

girl. This girl! Her eyes were a crystal-blue, just like an endless ocean, her hair as yellow as a sunflower in full bloom. Not only this, but her chat and personality were amazing, too. She

was so smart and funny. We walked and talked for 10 minutes, not wishing to usher these

affable people away, though the whole time I did not have any intentions of taking-up her

offer of some backstreet sex. The thing that prevented me from doing so was this: In my

head, the whole time, I just kept repeating to myself that this girl could have an infection, due to the numerous men that she has likely been with. Unhappy, but not disappointed, they left

us alone as I turned the key in the outer door of my uncle's apartment block. Goodnight

ladies. Goodnight all.

Diary Deary 97. Me and Mark got out of bed this morning to an apartment void of uncle

Harry; he'd returned to Dootland on an early flight, though he had left a present for us on the dining-table: 2 tickets for the executive-lounge at Laflard airport, which we could enter

before our flight to Mestepme. Thanks, Harry.

With our flight not until mid-afternoon, we chilled out on the sun-laden balcony until

it was time to leave, smoking the 2 remaining sunters that we had in our possession. When

the time came to leave, we were collected by another chauffeur-driven taxi, which was

another parting gift of Harry's, which took us to the airport. Our luggage drop-off proved to

be comically problematic, as the security-staff insisted that Mark's dubious bag be sent

through a crime-prevention scanner; he had a squeaky rubber-duck inside his bag that made a

noise when disturbed by movement, and this made them suspicious of our intentions.

Thankfully, common-sense prevailed and his bag passed-through without the need for it to be unpacked.

We then headed up to the executive-lounge, where we encountered even more

security-related problems. The staff clearly hadn't seen many nomads in this lounge before,

and, due to our relaxed attire, had to double-check that our vouchers were legitimate. Again,

common-sense was the winner and we were allowed to enter. This lounge had all amenities

and necessities that one could require; sandwiches, juice, wine, magazines and free Internet

connection. Thankfully, this Internet connection enabled me to contact Mikey C on ClockOn,

which in turn meant that I could arrange a place to meet him when I arrived in Mestepme.

We've been to Mestepme together before, me and Mikey, so we know our way around, with

locations normally centred-around the best, cheapest coffee-shops. I asked for him to meet

me at the coffee-shop that was located outside the entrance of the train station. Luckily,

before I sent this message, with specific times contained, an unlucky message appeared on

the notice-board, saying that our flight would be delayed by 2 stundas. Ah well, Providence

has It's reasons. This did mean, however, that we were able to pig-out on more of the

delicious food that was provided to us.

Finally, just after sunset, we were able to board our flight, thus commencing the short

journey to Mestepme. Sparing you the travel details, we were, 2 stundas later, greeted at

Mestepme central station by 2 people who Mark had met during his time in Dowpathia; Yulia

and Curt. This is what an International community should be: Travel, establish a friendship,

and then utilise this friendship whenever you find yourself in the vicinity of your new-found

companion.

Unable to, at this moment, get to know Yulia and Curt better, I had to leave the group

so that I could make my rendezvous with Mike. After waiting outside the designated coffee-

shop for 10 smalieys, I knew that Mike was off gallivanting somewhere else and that he had

forgotten to show up, a character trait that he is prone to. Still, I waited for a further 20

stundas, to keep my end of the bargain, before going to meet my loyal (Haha. Only joking

Mikey, you know that I'm not bothered.) friends at the hostel that I'd arranged for us to stay

in. Hostel Number 14 was extremely busy when I arrived, so much so that we were unable to

check-in at the present time, with the staff recommending that we dump our belongings in the

luggage room and head out into the city for a smoke, before returning later. This is what we

did, heading to 'Let The Good Times Roll' coffee-shop. I like a coffee-shop with a play on

words, I do. Becoming acquainted with Yulia and Curt, I noticed my speech getting slower

and slower, the harsh reality that is Mestepme taboosh hitting me harder than I'd anticipated.

In taboosh-circles, this is known as either 'Pranging-Out' or 'Monging-It'.

After finally contacting Mikey C, courtesy of Yulia's phone, we went to a different

coffee-shop, one located within the hectic red-light district. In here, whilst waiting for Mikey to arrive, I wrote this piece: ''What is this World? This madness that I've transcended into.

The whole time I thought that we had control, but it's actually an ego-centric free-for-all.

This is the completion of the eternal underground. I see the show now and I've stopped

partaking. I feel that if I scream out, my spirit will break out from this cage, this body, and I will fly and I will rise and I will be free.''. This was influenced by the drunkenness enacting itself all around me, and also my 'pranginess'. Finally Mike arrived, accompanied by 2 of his

friends from university, and I was able to once again embrace one of the brothers that I had left behind in Dishwei. Great to see you Mike.

With the time being late, the only thing of note that occurred was the drinking of a

pint, kindly purchased for me by Mikey. I could not hack, another gravla term, any more

happenings tonight, so I left the others to drink and smoke the night away, while I returned to Number 14, being allocated a bed within a 20-person dorm.

Diary Deary 98. Ahhh. A fresh Sun. A fresh sun; a fresh start. What better way to embrace

this sunny sun than to hire a bicycle and go for a ride around a park? Nope, I didn't think you had a better answer. Wow, have I missed cycling; what better city to push pedals in than

Mestepme? A city that values bike-riders above those that travel in cars? As a frequent rider

back in Dishwei, I am prone to breathe in the heavy metals of chaos. Mestepme, though, is

renowned Mydow-wide for its multiple bike lanes and flat roads.

Me, Mikey and his 2 friends, Saul and Magnus, met up at the coffee-shop that was

designated last night, purchasing some fiya (I wished to purchase fiya as it would resemble

what I had been smoking in Smiyulland.), before heading slightly out of town and into the

large 'Spokepark'. Mestepme and its taboosh speaks for itself, as does the idyllic setting

provide by Spokepark, so we were all content taking a seat on a bench and talking for several

stundas and sunters.

During this talk, 2 things were brought to my immediate attention: Firstly, that the

positions of the tattoos on my back mimicked the locations of the sacred chakras found

within the body, barring the gaping hole that was in-between the naughts-and-crosses

lookalike and the self-written scrolls on my coccyx. Also, I realised that, to have a full hemp outfit upon my return to Dishwei, I would be required to hunt down and purchase some socks

and shoes; this should not be hard in the taboosh-orientated city that Mestepme is. Both tasks

would be completed this afternoon.

I set to work thinking-up a design for my tattoo, being inspired by some hieroglyphic-

graphics that were adorning the large monument in the middle of this park. I had the idea of

creating a riddle-like piece, in which each symbol phonetically related to a letter. Consulting Where2Go, we cycled to the best, nearest tattoo parlour. Upon arrival, I was quoted a price of

~40, a very competitive price that was; after some brainstorming and consultation with the

tattoo artist, I finally settled on a design. The artist was intrigued at the existing tattoos on my back; it was here that I realised that Smiyulland has provided me with a story-to-tell for-life. I shall never be short of an interesting tale. _''Travelling: It leaves you speechless and then_ _turns you into a storyteller.''_ Lying on my belly, the tattooing began, with the machine that was being used being less painful than any of the needle-jabs that I'd received in Smiyulland.

20 smalieys later and it was over. I then asked the artist to draw lines between each tattoo and then up to my hair-line, with the idea that they're all connected and that the energy is flowing through my body in one, whole, harmonious circuit.

Next up was to hunt down some socks and shoes. Surprisingly, I located these within

a well-known brand's store; they must have thought that this would be a niche market within

this taboosh-renowned city. With no haggling allowed in Mydow, I paid the price on the ticket and left the store, now adorned in full hemp dress. Hemp fibres provide an effective

barrier against harmful UV rays. Also, it is extremely versatile, and in this modern, abundant

World, it can be mixed with all fabrics, with no compromise on quality or appearance. Ah,

that's all sorted now. This transformation is now complete. I am now chakra'd-up, fully-

aligned and adorned in the best cloth that this World has to offer.

This evening I met-up with Mark for the first time thissun, as we both wished to

check-out the library together. Mestepme is an extremely flat city, and the high-rise library,

situated on the outskirts of the city, is the most-highly recommended place to go in order to

get the best views. Reaching the library, we smoked a sunter outside as the Sun was setting,

before heading into the glass building. The first thing that I look for when entering a library is the philosophy and psychology sections. Typically, in here they were to be found on the top

floor, next to the thought-provoking, inspiring, life-appreciating viewpoint. I'd never seen

Mestepme from such a hight, and it was a weird-feeling to do so. The buildings looked

smaller and everything seemed more compact than it does on ground-level. Me and Mark

took a seat in the cafe and began discussing the conclusion of my Nomad Philosophy:

''Imagination is the force behind evolution; the core of human-es spirit comes from new

experiences.'' I then asked Mark what his philosophy would be called, and he replied:

''GHST – Get High Smoke Taboosh.''; ''You may have noticed that I smoke a lot of sunters.

Holy smokes. We are human-e being with immense knowledge of the herbs that have been

provided to us. Let us inhale smoke, and cover our bodies with its blessings. Smoke and fire

is one of the basic alchemical elements.''.

We left this place to return back to Hostel Number 14, not before purchasing a book,

of course. This would be the book that I would read upon my return to Verland; a 1000-page

reading-bonanza! It discusses a fantasy-land in which a lesser-known person ventures forth

into the wide World and returns to his small village as the liberated hero of the story, having faced his fears and evolutionised his personality. I shall read it before I edit this book as I believe that there shall be some similar themes.

Diary Deary 99. Get me home. Get me back to Dishwei. I'm so close, yet so far. This last sun

was too much for my mind to deal with. A sun in which thoughts of past, present and future

all collided into one massive, blended blob in my mind.

Hucurl United were playing a match in the late-afternoon thissun, so I wished to be in

the presence of Mikey whilst watching this match. Before this, however, I sat in a coffee-

shop on my own and contemplated all that has happened during the past 98 suns. I feel that

what I need to do is not forget what I have experienced; my body may not be there anymore,

but my mind and consciousness can remain in that fantastical, fantasy place. _''All things_

_change; be they of mind or of body.''_ Providence has shown Itself to me and I am kenosised and can see, and more importantly, read, the signs that this World puts in to my path. There is beauty in every little thing, not just those of grandeur. _''Blow a smoke ring. It'll change your_ _life. Beauty out of thin air. The inner ring ripples.''_

Of course, I was dragged out of this reflective state by an almighty event; there are no

chances in this World, everything occurs as it should and at it's pre-destined time. In the

lonely coffee-shop, as I went up to the bar to order some lunch, I bumped into Karl and

Maisie. Who?! Karl and Maisie are non-other than Giles' college-friends from Dishwei. I had

no idea that they were here in Mestepme; they had no idea that I was here in Mestepme. Yet,

on my journey back to Verland after leaving my brother Giles, on the final sun before I return

home, it was of blinding obviousness that I should be joined by them. This brought about a

next-level hype on my behalf, as me, Karl and Maisie sat down at a table, ate lunch together,

and talked tales of recent times and experiences. They'd been in Mestepme for 6 suns so far

and would, too, be flying home tomorrow. Needless to say, we stayed together for the next 4

stundas, joined my Mikey halfway through, as we sat, smoked and watched the Hucurl

United match.

With my spirit roused, I was in prime condition to go out and enjoy my final night of

this 100 sun-long adventure. But, this is Mestepme, and this is some high-grade, sleep-

inducing taboosh! After visiting an eco-coffee-shop, consisting of grass-filtered pipes and

also hemp-recyclable bags and hemp-papers, I returned to the hostel and fell flat on to my

bed, fully-clothed. However, one key issue was raised whilst we were in the confines of this

coffee-shop. This issue had been brought-up by Mark, who had joined our company. This

eco-friendly coffee-shop had caused him to remember, and therefore suggest to me, the

plentiful uses of hemp paper. Until just over 100 sirculs ago, 90% of the World's paper was

made from hemp, until the industrial revolution came about. This is when powerful

businessmen, many of whom had political ties and connections, realised that money could not

be made if hemp, and taboosh, were legal. So began a large media campaign to warn the

masses of society about the harmful consequences of smoking taboosh. Since then, hemp has

gone under the radar. Now, though, it shall make it's return. Mark's suggestion has planted

the seed in my mind that this book shall be printed on to hemp paper, with a hemp-fabric as

the outer cover.

Diary Deary 100. For the final time; the hundreth sun. You should already know by now that

if you have not consciously decided to fight (Not literally!) for freedom, then you have

already chosen your side: That of the oppressor. _''Put the World in its place before it put you_ _in yours. You can try to avoid us but it's pointless, you can never avoid the voices of the_ _voiceless. Let's have an overthrow and an after-party in the same night.'_ ' So, what now? How do I 'fight'? A stunt? A piece of daring art is more-like what it would be called in this modern World. _''He who takes the humiliation of the people is fit to rule them.''_ I may die, but I shall remain alive in this book. _''To live is the rarest thing in the World. Most people exist, that is_ _all. They say that you die twice. One time when you stop breathing, and a second time, a bit_ _later on, when somebody says your name for the last time. My name is 'I' and I shall live_

_forever; as billions I shall survive.''_

__

Thissun is a homecoming. Thissun is the completion of the 100 suns, the completion

of the hero's journey, the completion of the evolutionary experience, and the long-awaited

step onto the next rung of the 'Ladder of Evolution'. In typical, Providential fashion, the Sun

was shining bright thissun, from the moment that my eyelids opened, to the moment that they shut again, as I placed my head on the pillow that I call 'mine'.

Waking up, I had a quick, unsuccessful check in all the hostel beds, attempting to

locate Mark so that I could bid him farewell. Unable to do this, I found his belongings and

left a carved Maytla in the side-pocket of his bag. All of these have been distributed, now; all my long-lost brothers and sisters have been located in this World.

After this act, I departed Hostel Number 14 and walked to the nearby central station. I

boarded the train that was making its way to the airport and began an internal reminisce about

all the life-altering events that I had experienced, settling on the fact that: ''I left as a crazy guy who had an inkling that he was smart. I return now as a smart guy who accepts that he's

crazy. Normality is a paved road: It is comfortable to walk along, but no flowers shall grow

on it.''.

Reaching this modern airport, where one checks in their own luggage, I dumped my

bag into the machine, attached the relevant piece of paper, and made my way through the

security scanners and into the departure lounge. Mestepme had hit me hard and I was very

much looking forward to returning back to Dishwei so that I could be reenergised by seeing

my friends once again.

After a stundas' wait, I boarded my flight and began to eagerly await the wheels

touching down onto Verlish land. Thankfully, due to the relatively-short distance between

Hucurl and Mestepme, this event occurred before the Sun had fully risen, it was still early

morning. Ahhhh, Hucurl, grey Hucurl. I would once despise you for your constant cloud

cover, but this new me can find the beauty in everything: ''Grey can be seen as the mergence

of white and black, and thus a place of balance. Grey places induce reflectiveness.'' Perhaps

the blandness of my hometown is what caused my once-incessant mind to question things so

intricately and deeply. After a quick de-board and luggage collection, I was ready to make

my way through the arrivals gate and back into Western reality; the rules, the dos, the don'ts, the individualism, the fear of change. Who would be there, waiting to greet me? My mother?

My father? My friends? Nope, all wrong. Passing through the doors I was hugged or touched

or even recognised by no-one; this is Nomad Philosophy remember, do not be surprised, or

even upset.

I knew that thissun's entry would contain at least one iconoclastic event, though I was

not expecting 2 to come along so soon. First of all, before I had even left the airport confines, I left my bag outside as I went into the toilets. Whilst sitting on the toilet, I heard an

announcement over the tannoy saying: ''Would A Naturalbeing please come to baggage

collection as we have recovered his unattended luggage.''. Unattended luggage?! I've only

been in here less than a smaliey! I walked out of the bathroom to see 2 security guards

shepherding my luggage as though it was a nuclear weapon. What is this fear-ridden land?! I

leave a bag outside while I go on the loo and instantly there's a panic that it could be

potentially a bomb! It is clear that people's consciousness is easily created and manipulated

by the media, a media that has an esoteric agenda of its own. I explained the situation to these frowning guards, who then let me collect my belongings and go on my way. It didn't take

long for the second 'We tell you what you can and cannot do' event to occur. Standing in the

open-air at the train station, not on a public-occupied platform, no, in an outdoor lobby, I was informed that I would have to dispense of my cigarette unless I wanted a ~1000 fine! You

must understand how silly and molly-coddly this all feels after spending the past 100 suns in a personal-expression-orientated, free land. I ignored this request, continuing to puff about

my business. I was then confronted by a security guard who backed-up this previous threat,

even enhancing it by suggesting that he'd call the police if I didn't dispose it immediately.

Okay! Okay! I didn't know what to expect upon returning back to Verland or how I would

analyse it all, but these 2 quick-fire events hardened my resolve to evolve this World for the

better.

I boarded a train back to Dishwei, upon which I borrowed a fellow passenger's phone

so that I could ring my dad and ask him to meet me at the train station. Perhaps before, I may

have been afraid to confront a fellow being with such a request, but now I fully understand

the concept of 'IAMU' and how we are all one and must live together as eternal, infinite

relatives.

I arrived back into Dishwei train station to be greeted by the thoughtless and careless

immature bickering that ravishes many souls in the country. Supposedly, earlier-on that

morning, a girl had been knocked over by a bus, yet the conversation-impetus seemed not to

be about the care and well-being of this young girl, but of who could provide the most gossip

and dish out the most blame. ''I blame it on those darn earphones, she couldn't hear it coming''

said one man; ''No, no, nonsense!'' said another, ''it was the bus driver who was going too

fast. He should be locked-up and have the key thrown away''. _''If you propose to speak,_

_always ask yourself: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?''_

__

Ahhhh, how great to be back! My dad arrived to collect me, and rescue me, greeting

each other with a hand-shake and a hug, before climbing into the car and driving off to return

to his house. I wish that I could say more here, I really do, but my relationship with my

parents is sadly more-or-less non-existent, due to the liberal viewpoint that I have on life and also how the young generation, the next generation, always have different problems to deal

with than the generation that it has followed; this is why I have bought the photo albums and

intend to include some of my noted thoughts in there, so that they can have a better

understanding of my, unique-to-me, point-of-view.

After a brief summary of my trip and a much-needed shower, I then got dropped off at

my disappointed mum's house; disappointed because she was hoping that I'd be away on my

travels a lot longer than 100 suns. Little did she know that I had some extensively built-up

business that I needed to get off my chest, and that my experiences in Smiyulland had

enabled me to gather the belief that I should, and could, follow this business through.

If you've read this far, you'll know that my family is the brothers that I choose to walk

with, so this is where most of the catching-up and talking happened thissun; with a sunter in

hand and in the company of like-minded folks. After eating my tea, there's nothing better

than your mother's cooking may I say, I headed out onto the streets of Dishwei with

intentions of ticking my friends off the list one-by-one. Luckily, my friends are, partly

through my own actions, all friends with each other, so this meant that only 2 group-

gettogethers were required. First off, I went to meet up with my step-brothers, who were

accompanied in their presence by Leon. Out of these 3 people, I did not expect Leon to be the

one having the most impact on myself. Whilst showing-off the artwork on my back, Leon

began to talk about Book 15, as he commented that the symbols of my most-recent tattoo

mimicked those that are contained within Book 15, as the author, too, had invented many of his own languages and words. No way! It was Leon's favourite book and he also added that

the content contained within related in a similar-fashion to the experiences and journey that I have been on. _''There are many powers in this World, for good or for evil. Some are greater_ _than I am. Against some I have not yet been measured. But my time is coming.''_

After some stories had been told, with many more always left unsaid, I left their

company, as they were on their way to the cinema before I met-up with them. No bother, I

was excited to see next my front-line brothers; Oli, Ben and Hugh. I rang Oli and we

arranged to meet at our usual sunter-spot: High up on the moors. The Sun will be setting soon

and we would be like 4 kings, taking their seats on top of the World, staring out at all that is ours: The land that the eyes can see. The great thing about Dishwei is it's suburban location,

meaning instant-access to the hilly countryside.

A 30 smaliey walk and I was at the designated location; the others arrived soon-after.

These 3 people are my front-line brothers as they have direct-knowledge and experience of

what I myself have seen, and therefore similar pathways have been forged in their analytic

minds. The following content, the end of this diary, is what we discussed as we sat smoking

sunters until the stars were gracing the sky above us. There are no quotation marks as this

was our collective-consciousness speaking. As the story starts together, it ends together; with everyone and anyone and all contributing to what has occurred and what has been said.

This has been Nomad Philosophy, and this is the happeneding. Set yourself free from

any dogma that is still trying to be attached to you during this modern, evolutionary time. We

have a new religion: The Internet. This has generated an Internetional community; we are all

now just walking each other home and we shall be there shortly. Create your own time by

committing a unique, endless and timeless act, and thus escape the rune. Try people, try. Risk

being seen on the front-line in all of your glory. It is not the critic who counts; not the human who points out how the strong human-e stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have

done them better. The credit belongs to the human-e who is actually in the arena, whose face

is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short

again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does

actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who

spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high

achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. I

can be a God because I understand the concept of how one is manifested. The real crime is

that you won't admit that you, too, are a God. That's false modesty. The moments of our life

are not expendable, nor are they extendable. It is written when our time will come. Embrace

it. Bask in the freedom. Set yourself free from body; the fear of tomorrow is the curse of the

present.

From A Naturalbeing.

Diary Deary 101. 
