A violent anxiety or I-don’t-know-what hangs around like the wringing out of my ribs and lungs. I have been awake only an hour and all I want to do is spit at what I could or should be doing.
This day, like every other day of the last however, is a fucking write off.
Over and over in my head I roll theeeeee people will survive.
It puts me on a bike in a field, air fresh and cool with a rain bringing me back to life. Everything is grey, but it’s a good kind of grey. Exactly the right kind of grey.
It will be the first day I’ve stepped outside my house in maybe a week.
The next half an hour is a shower and getting my bike out and I cycle up to the supermarket for some things. I go through that field and I hear different songs by that band, The Minutemen. But coming back over an old BMX track, rain just coming down, is when the people will survive.