Strong determination and access to liquids

I didn't get to bed until six a.m.

We carried out another daring raid, this time on Pouncey's mini-supermarket across the road. It’s been empty for weeks and the sight of the shelves stocked up with tinned foods lying idle started us planning last week. We made one abortive attempt to jemmy the back door with Lee's crow bar a few days ago, making a lot of noise and mess in the process, so this time we went prepared.

Lee’d bought a glass cutter and plunger and did the job professionally, scoring a diagonal line across one corner of the kitchen window and forcing it until the grass cracked along the score-mark. From then on it was an easy job to reach inside, open the window and climb through. Del and Barry brought across a suitcase, rucksacks and various holdalls, and Pete, Lee and I hurriedly loaded these up from the well-stocked shelves. We even had time to browse.

Lee and I went back inside a second-time, accompanied by Del and Barry and got a second lot. We had a scare when a newspaper delivery van pulled up across the road and parked there for long, nerve-racking minutes with engine idling. Tension reached fever-pitch before finally the van drove away.

Oddly enough, there was no fear, just excitement and nervous energy. I imagine we’d be almost blasé about it if we were caught. I don't think there are many places which would defeat Lee. He has become an expert. This haul eases my bankrupt position at the moment. Ironically, although I've been consumed with hunger the last few days, as soon as I had all this food available, my hunger vanished and I just went through the motions of eating. This confirms my suspicion that many of our gut reactions are purely physiological and can be conquered with the correct mental attitude. Strong determination and access to liquids could take you a long way in a prolonged fast, and I want to test this when the time is right.

When I got up at three o'clock this afternoon, Del had gone back to Milton Keynes. He couldn’t stand the chaos of his situation without any money, and so his parents came down to pick him up. John Turney hasn't shown his face since the conflagration of the other night, and he has been round at Ade's place testing out the attitude toward him here.

I've fallen behind with my work again. I should hand in two essays on Monday. Why do I allow myself to fall into these traps? I finished A Farewell To Arms today and I thought it was quite good, although not as impressive as I'd expected it to be. I don't know what I thought I’d find.

I've also written to Grant inviting him down here whenever he cares to come, and Dad finally replied to my long overdue letter of last week.