Entry Number One: or maybe zero - depends, all so subjective, I don't know, wait, am I supposed...

[diva_myron]

My luggage is ready and I am merely waiting on Dalion to tell me my new flat is ready. He says it's somewhere near the Piccadilly, but I'd rather not live in a place full of tourists - Muggle or otherwise.

I don't know whether other people can read this, as far as the shopkeeper said, the journals are connected to others anyway, and there are certain levels of secrecy - honestly, I have no idea why would I hide my thoughts from others? Unless I was going to kill someone. Not that I ever would. Anyway, I have an important notice:

Dear Accidental Reader: If you could advise me on an idea for a nice residential place, uncluttered and the likes, in London, I'd be forever thankful. In addition, I'd invite you for a dinner with me in a place of your choosing.

I am currently working on a song that is turning out to be rather dark. It's all Carmilla's fault, I tell you. The girl doesn't want to even look at me.

Here is an excerpt:

My lips then trace an icy line.
Forget
the looks and words divine.
Your eyes, like seas of heady wine.
I drown
My pulse - a syncopated rhyme.

~Myron