This vessel continues to vex and confuse; the simplest methods of upkeep are often the most frustrating. The strands at the top do not obey my commands, no matter how forcefully I vocalize my displeasure. I have once again started to utilize heated tools to obtain their acquiescence, but I must refrain from overuse. If I do not, the strands will rebel by attempting to multiply, compounding the initial problem. This has happened before; it is a never-ending struggle. If I could find a way to communicate with them things might go more easily, but thus far all attempts to do so have been in vain.
Communication with the inner beings seems easier, but I have noticed that when things are not to their liking they can get very loud, and very suddenly. Today’s grumblings were so vociferous that I was certain those nearby were aware of their complaints.
The Oracle says today is National French Fry Day, so I indulged in this ritual during the mid-day feast. One of the natives inquired where the popular Scottish place was located, as he was unfamiliar with the local surroundings and needed guidance. I obliged, as I have been there many times. I find they sometimes overdo the sodium chloride on their grilled fare, but not today. The syrupy, bubbly liquid concoction that accompanies the standard meal was sweet but not particularly good at quenching thirst. I will endeavor to acquire a different selection next time.
Time appears to be inconsistent in this continuum, with units passing quickly or slowly, with no discernible pattern to the differences. I continue to study the phenomenon but full understanding is elusive.