Dear Diary Vol. 1

Dear Diary,

I feel like I've been on my period since the 9th century AD. It is possible that's the reason I baked a cake for breakfast. I used Guinness instead of milk because I ran out of milk. No, that’s a lie. I cannot run out of milk.

I sit here staring out the window on account of the split moment where all light in the world went out. Utter darkness for but a moment, as if the opposite of a light flashing in front of my eyes had occurred. Now, as I stare at the sky full of cumulous clouds, I wonder – is it all a façade? Is the world that I see real? Might it be a figment of a collaborative consciousness between my mind and those who share the fabricated reality around me? As the sun beams down, the world has not blinked since. I did not imagine it.

Emerald lies asleep, as fluffy as ever. Her eyes twitch indicating she is in a deep unconscious state. Her teeth crunch as if munching on the bones of her enemies. Nothing more could be expected from a disabled rabbit. She is perfect.

Here is a recipe for milk; the prison that it is. I am forever unable to run out of milk and will thus never need to ‘pop over to the store’ where I may meet the man of my dreams. Alas, he and I are victims. He waits alone in the dairy aisle, but I never arrive. Two souls confined by the fluid that holds us captive, for without it, it would all fall apart. Coffee would taste bitter. Shakes would undulate no more. Butter would not churn.

• 2 liters water

• 3 tbsp almond butter

• 1/5 of a vanilla bean

• 2 dates, pitted

• A healthy pinch of Celtic Sea salt

Blend.