We need to believe.

We want to believe.

Without belief

we are lost.

We grasp at belief.

We breathe belief.



The Car

The people walking along the street don’t mind me sitting in my car. I mind me sitting in my car. I should be doing things, building things, creating things, or even just working mindlessly in some job that does not matter to anyone. I should be doing anything but this. I am doing this but I can’t move. Going anywhere just seems a waste, I can’t go home as I don’t feel at home there, I can’t go out as the idea of talking to people scares me. I could go a drive but where could I go? Anywhere. How do I get there? I would need petrol, I don’t want to speak to anyone. I could get petrol a coffee and a packet of crisps all at once. Limiting how much I have to talk to people. I don’t want to eat, I feel nauseous, it must have been that waiting room. Coffee then? I’ll be sick, don’t buy one. It’ll be waste, don’t waste money, what about the plastic waste, don’t waste money or time. I have all the time, well let us go somewhere. Where? Anywhere? How? I look at the car, I could clean the car, it needs a clean. I’d have to go home and get the hoover. Don’t go home. I can’t go home. I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes now people will be wondering. I turn the engine on, I put the radio on. I should really dust this car, that is a lot of dust. I can’t go home, don’t go home, stay here. Yes, I’ll listen to the radio for a minute. I want to explode, I need to cry, I need to scream. I want to bash the steering wheel. I just sit there and don’t look at anything in particular but everything in general. It all wells up.

My Life

My life?

It now seemed a rant, a long-confused rant. I was confused myself if I was confused, would it be possible for others to understand? They could join me on the precipice; we could stand and hold hands, perhaps look at each other, no, not look at each other; must avoid eye contact. I’ll just feel guilty if we lock eyes.

I look at my life a lot; I look at other people’s lives. Neither of these options makes sense. I once believed that humans might be rational, and I now realize what a mistake that was. Perhaps we could sit the whole world down and have a cup of tea, we all sit down and realize we have fucked up. Now no one can make eye contact; we wonder whether the gods will notice, they don’t seem to have noticed anything for a while. Maybe a good cuppa will bring them out, make them realize that there is always time for a good smiting.

I wonder why I dived in.

What did I hope would happen?

Would everything suddenly become clear?


Waiting rooms, they are all imbued with the same sense of desperation and boredom. Going into a waiting room in perfect health is a sure-fire way to make yourself ill. I sat down on my plastic seat, the type fitted with fake plastic cushions, designed to sit in exactly the right places to cause maximum discomfort. The pale flickering of the strip lights would give me a sore head, I was sure of it and could feel the early tinges of a migraine coming on.Read More »