Dreadful few days

28/3 9pm

I think I’ve caught the Tube Virus.

Think slimy greasy poles one holds onto when the carriage swings from side to side. Think the dead hair and dead skin that gets caught in the coarse brushes on the sides of the escalators. Think the dust on the trillions of oyster cards that shared the same touch pad as yours. Think the pores belonging to 10 million people released into your breath through the air-con. Think the dried urine and the vomit that coat those red and blue seats. Just think...

29/3 3am

I laid in my cold bed with my head feeling like its in a microwave and every crease in my body was filled with sweat. I fumble around inside the duvet disturbed by tumultuous thoughts.

In my feverish dreams I hallucinated. I sat high on a branch of a leafless tree. I was dressed like the dark angel in a tattery grey coat. I was so skinny and sallow that my eyes were sunk in and my ribs were protruding as if I was a decomposing dead animal. I sat in a feotal position holding my knees, perched high up, looking at the black crows flying and crying beneath, across a grey city that is smoldering in smoke, decaying ever so slightly more every minute, scum water running down the pavement and into the drains, bricks falling from beaten walls, unwanted stained newspaper blowing in the air. In the distance factories were still pumping, I could hear the bolts and joints of the machines chugging away, yellow and orange lights flashing through the windows, chugging away as the city continue to decay, and crumble all around me.

29/3 8am

She who stockpiles pseudoephredrine is a smart traveler. She who hasn’t stockpiled enough is not a smart enough one.

29/3 6pm

I was just missing my mum, and how she used to give me salt water to gargle and let me take the day off school, and bring me cut oranges and give me cold towels and sit me up to give me syrup - when Wendy, Emma and Deno showed up with juice and soup and lemsip. I spell the world Love. And spell it again.

30/3

I spent my birthday in bed. It was meant to be the best and most kick arse party I was going to have, this post could have been plastered with beautiful smiling pictures of beautiful people in beautful dresses and day suits and eating beautiful food and sipping beautiful cocktails, but instead I had to call my friends and tell them not to come. Soooo pissed off.

1/4 11am

I’m back at work and I literally look like one of the Olson twins during their hobo stage covered in a raggity oversized coat and two and a half scarves with my head down and baggy eyes. Ewwhhhh. The FB shall not be beaten.