I went to buy potatoes

I went to buy potatoes because it was sunny.

It was sunny because it’s London…

probably not.

Maybe it was sunny because I had to go buy potatoes.

One thing is certain:

I like London and London likes me, so that’s why in January

it’s sunny.

(Apparently, when I am not necessarily in the mood to write a coherent text, I write poems. And then I start figuring out the hidden meanings as if it was not me who wrote it.)