I have settled on a book to read. It's called Three Men In A Boat. I watched the 1975 version of the film when I was allured by Tim Curry. I still, possibly am. The film was charming and lightly comedic (Well, by todays standards of comedy film.) The book is proving to be equally as brilliant. Jerome K. is such a charming writer. I can only wish I could write with such humour and just literal, well, charm really. It's not complex, or tangled in words, or too pretentious. I know my writing is like that, not that I think there's anything wrong with trying too hard, when the words are still making sense. If I were writing unintelligible lies, that would be a different matter. I am reading the paragraphs and realising they put them in almost word-for-word in the course of the film. Beautiful. So simple. And descriptive beyond any measure.

Well, today I did 6 hours of babysitting. Not so much babysitting if you consider that the babysitted was outside all day and I was inside, locked up in my room away from the cousin who only creeps out when nobody is in. He goes upstairs when everybody comes home, and I go downstairs when they do. But only for a short while so I can breathe again. Today the packed house of 6 brought home a chinese takeaway. I politely declined after hearing it would be something from the chippy. I battered the keys on some website that told me a single sausage in batter contains over 500 calories. I laughed out loud. I also presumed to do so when I was sat in the living room amongst the five of them, all chomping away on a portion of chinese cuisine that an African child did not even know could possibly exist. I could barely comprehend the size of the portions on their plates. They do not know that the stomach is only the size of your fist. Apparently. And later on, two of them proceeded to decline my request at sharing a box of chocolates I had been bought for Easter. Strange.

I wanted to get rid of the chocolates quickly so I tried to eat as many as possible tonight. I let everybody take what they wanted. I enjoyed them, but I really couldn't help the way I ate. I must have eaten about 6 different chocolates that all looked like they could pass for some posh, gourmet delicasy. So I ate one and I drank half a glass of water because my throat felt sticky. I ate the dark chocolate ones first. My auntie took both the white chocolate lemon mousse, and I really wanted to try those ones. I chose another one and finished the glass of water. And another 2, followed by half a glass of water each. Then later my stomach started churning and I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I thought it was the out-of-date-by-one-day-only pasta that I had two portions of throughout the day, but it couldn't have been comprehendable that it would rot so quickly. I went upstairs. I pissed four times. I tried another chocolate about 2 hours later and I felt sick after eating half so I chucked it in the bin. I tried a milk chocolate one and felt sick again. I threw it away. I had planned a solid chocolate diet tomorrow which doesn't seem sensible anymore. Instead, i'll incorporate chocolate into my afternoon porridge.

That's all for right now. I've been bored to an absurd degree today. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go and nobody to see. I would like to learn how to play the banjo.