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So. I’ve got recurrent aphthous stomatitis, 
Glaucoma Gladys; Eyesight out of focus, 
The return of pain from Toothache Tiffany,
Peripheral Pete is acting somewhat oddly,
Up in the sky is a whopping cumulonimbus!
Years ago, I was libidinous and lascivious,
Now, I move ornamentally, & act sentimentally,
I often act like a schoolteacher sumpsimus.
I don’t mean to act so obnoxious,
My toes and feet turned white & xanthous,
Many things make me worried and anxious,
How can mortals beat off the oligarchy?
They rule, from wars, they make more money!
Proletariats, innocents survive quixotically…
Politicians live life quintessentially,
We vote for MPs who we think, essentially, 
Will do the job least damagingly…
In return, 26 taxes go up, regretfully, 
Starmer gives pensioners a financial raspberry!
Commoners hate… his MPs show him ambivalence!
He may be vacillatious, the voters are unfelicitous,
A backhand-taker, give him a certificate,
Did God permit this animal to rule us?
With his lies & constant obscurantist blatherskite!
Lies is another word spoken in omission,
But we’ll see him consider any admission, 
As he agrees to send more ammunition…
Compassion to him is an apparition, 
Of course, some eye him with a different complexion,
Would never give him any condemnation, 
They’ll be part of some financial conglomeration!
Overseas investment, banks denying the crucifixion.
Fair enough, I’m still awaiting confirmation…
What’s he done? My conclusion is he causes confusion,
His manner & words show floccinaucinihilipilification.
To pensioners; flabbergastation,
N.I. increases, employers frustration,
To voters, he’s an overpaid fustilarian.
The self-employed, driven to fulmination!
Taxpayers, give him a two-fingered gesticulation! 
He must be the current most-hated man in the nation,
He’s guilty of inspiring the common man’s hortation!.
Personally, I think he’s a schmuck, a sleeveen,
His stealing from pensioners was particularly mean!
We’ll mostly be dead come the next election…
My last words are typed with some hesitation...
Bear in mind they come from a man lacking education,
I’ll be waiting for him, at his damnation!
And we can both have a discussion in Hell’s dungeon!
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Early morning—well, not all that early, really—around 06:30 hrs, morning views from the kitchenette window.

Later on.

An hour or so later.

Toothache Tiffany kicked off.

Teatimeish.

Not a proper meal. But the innards had been playing me up all day, and I didn’t want to annoy them anymore.
I was content with what I had: Milk Roll sliced bread, nobutter-buttered tomatoes, beetroot, and red onions.  
The last pickled egg: red onion, a splodge of Marmite, or Vegemite—I like them both. And mini franks of undetermined meat and flavour, but they tasted okay. 
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I’m struggling with toothache, seizures, and concentration. Lack of sleep is doing me no good, either. I can’t get caught up.

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Let’s see how I go in the morning and if the computer is kind to me when it comes to saving photos. I’m low.
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TTFNski!