Tom informs me that he is now in Shanghai, being a journalist. One can only hope that his stint is every bit as exciting as Tintin's. He also claims to have some photos up on the internet, but this appears to be untrue. Surely he hasn't run afoul of the benevolent People's Police already?
I, of course, am now in Liverpool. On Monday they'll give me my ID card, which will mean that I get to use the library, and everything. My flat consists of me and four Germans (luckily, I have experience of Germans...). They're very nice, but only actually here for six months. This means that stand a good chance of living on my own for six months again. This may be a two-edged sword: living on my own produced "Green Lanes Blues", possibly the best thing I've ever written. As that piece of writing shows, however, it also began to fragment my personality.
This post's gone all gloomy, which isn't really how I'm feeling. I'm really just restless because until they let me in the library, I've nothing to do.
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