5 November 1815
Sometimes I wonder what is occurring back home. Not that it matters, I suppose. I can't do a fucking thing about it while I'm here, anyways.
The past couple of days have been utterly boring, with nothing to note. There's nothing to do here, really, except sit around and think. The books in the library suck, and I'm not going to play that flute of Yours. Sorry, I know You like it, but I'm sure You also know I hate that instrument. I still want to learn something more awesome, but we both know I was too busy before and now that I'm here, there's only the flute and someone's piano, and like Hell I'm touching a piano. Do I look like that sissy Österreich? No, I didn't think so.
Of course, as to why I'm writing now? We're on a beach. Hell if I know how we went to sleep in our rooms at that asylum and woke up on a beach, but here we are. I hate it. There's too much sun and I think I've gotten burned already and they took away our normal clothes and gave us these weird white jumpers and such and stupid Polen stole my beer and umbrella.
Also there's someone else new, some old guy who is apparently German. Who saw fit to inform me of my dissolution again. To be fair, I did nearly attack him with a shovel, but I was trying to dig a tunnel to where Polen was. You know, to avoid the sun and all.
He's not a bad fighter, I guess. Still a real pain in the arse little brat, though.
Well, since I have nothing better to do, I guess I'll take a nap now.
The past couple of days have been utterly boring, with nothing to note. There's nothing to do here, really, except sit around and think. The books in the library suck, and I'm not going to play that flute of Yours. Sorry, I know You like it, but I'm sure You also know I hate that instrument. I still want to learn something more awesome, but we both know I was too busy before and now that I'm here, there's only the flute and someone's piano, and like Hell I'm touching a piano. Do I look like that sissy Österreich? No, I didn't think so.
Of course, as to why I'm writing now? We're on a beach. Hell if I know how we went to sleep in our rooms at that asylum and woke up on a beach, but here we are. I hate it. There's too much sun and I think I've gotten burned already and they took away our normal clothes and gave us these weird white jumpers and such and stupid Polen stole my beer and umbrella.
Also there's someone else new, some old guy who is apparently German. Who saw fit to inform me of my dissolution again. To be fair, I did nearly attack him with a shovel, but I was trying to dig a tunnel to where Polen was. You know, to avoid the sun and all.
He's not a bad fighter, I guess. Still a real pain in the arse little brat, though.
Well, since I have nothing better to do, I guess I'll take a nap now.