The morose weather has invaded my head. I've actually started to believe that there were people watching me all around, while I eat, sleep. And these guys were from the Government. I'm not kidding. But for the sake of my family and loved ones I have to keep a sensible head and get rid of this thought.

While at lunch just now I was constantly taking my attention away from the ban-mian and glancing at others, in a belief that everyone was government, they were all spies. It really is so easy to fall into that. Only the questions of "why would they be hunting for you?" prevented me from walking out of the food court.

Yet they all looked so 'normal'. It was as if they had been trained to do this for years, and it was only their job to keep the security of the nation and to prevent any dissidents from compromising the safety of the nation. They were the eyes, the ears.

Those taxi drivers. Whatever. Trying to get more information out from you as you spoke, talked about your opinion. And that I was living in a bubble world, trying to hide away from them.

No, I have to rid my head of these stupid things. It's driving me crazy now, it really is. It feels as though I were typing this to warn you about them. Your phone might have been tapped. They could be anywhere, if they even existed.

And it's piling up in my head. I feel like puking my lunch out now, both the nonsensical and childish idea, and the possibility that it might be true. No, it isn't. Somebody tell me that it isn't. Hopefully when I come back the thought would have been erased, and that it was just a childish thought.

I need to get back to my music. Franck is so damn haunting, especially that F# major passage I played for you.

The curtains twitch. It really seems like the winds are hurting them, and the curtains beg for them to stop. But they can't, because they're just fabric and they have no mouths. I'll tell the wind for them.

For now I need to get in the company of people. More people. I need my friends. Some trio come over please. We can play Dvorak. Or Schumann. Or Shostakovich. I can write gebrauch music for piano, oboe and violin. Disconcerted, is it? Confused.