It’s summer and it’s hot. The sun glared through the blinds of the window, creeping in like a pervert insisting on making my blood boil. The blanket underneath me was cool until I had to flip it over to make it cool again. The ceiling was plain grey and it was nothing to look at but it allowed my mind to wander. My body was soon soaked by the heat, I was doing a good job feeding the microbes that live in the bedsheets but I didn’t notice it.

My thoughts thrashed around, making a mess in my head, my thoughts often running into each other and making weird thought babies. Sometimes I write them down, birthing them into existence – I had to, otherwise they would cry and I would not know peace for a while.

I try to jot them down because they simmer at the surface of my consciousness for a long time and if I don’t pick them up they’ll sink deeper until I can’t get them and I would never be able to get them out again. They get stuck down there, merging with the doubt and fears until they are an intangible mess. Someday my head will get full of those thoughts and I won’t be able to think straight again.