ϟ FISSURES COMMUNICATIONS ϟ

I do not like it here, and I wish to return to my own place and time. I have things to do.

On a more positive note, I have, after much exhausting searching, found London. Or...well, it's like London at any rate. But our house is here! So I have somewhere to live, even though it's all very dusty for some reason.

[Swirly scribbles at the start of the entry as Amy was testing the pen]

Does this thing work? [...] Other people can read this, yeah? Alright then. My name is Amy Pond, and I am looking for a couple of boys who need to explain this right now, okay.

Firstly, a man in a bowtie and a tweed jacket. Brown hair, alien, 900-something years old. Calls himself the Doctor. Don’t listen to him, he’s not actually a doctor. Secondly, a man named Rory Williams, possibly dressed as a Roman soldier, brown hair, plastic. They may be accompanied by a blue telephone box. If seen, tell them Amy is looking for them. And will kick their backsides if they think they can just leave me here all by myself

Please and thanks, [...] book people!

Whichever lot of you kidnapped me, I don't think I deserve it, and I wish to go home immediately. My mother is ill and she needs me, and I have many important things to do. I have work. Please don't kill me, I don't want to die, I'm sorry

[...] Anyone know where I can find food around here? I’m starving. And if I’m dead, I think there should be good food available Or if this is a dream. Probably a dream. Afterlife wouldn’t have me snuggling with a kitten, would it? And I don’t feel dead Not that I know where “here” is. But I mean. At all. I’m dead or dreaming and writing in a journal how does that even make any fucking sense ohoho it doesn’t I could eat leaves but I’d rather not.

Not that I mind being in the middle of no where. No where's better than some somewheres. Oh, no, you're not crazy, are you old chap? Nah, just fucking entirely But, uh, this somewhere could use a little [...] or a lot of explanation because I don’t think I’m supposed to be here. Not that I mind, as I said. Knowing why/how/etc wouldn’t go amiss at all, though.

If I’m dead James. Lily. You two are dead, are you around, being all dead afterlife like? [...] Then you’d know where there’s a fucking restaurant-