Wednesday, 18 February 2009


My body is floating in a long line of bodies on the way to the incinerator.

I am chatting to the body next to me - we are two by two - like animals into the ark. I can't turn my head because of the spike that is in my head.

"So, what are you here for?"

"Well - it's a long story."

"What happened?"

"I accidentally launched a baby."

This is the first time I have spoken to someone who isn't my boss for a long time.

A raven swoops down onto my stomach and looks at me. He has a moustache and is singing a happy song.

You are my one true love/
You make me smile/
Would you give me your love/
As I defile/

I am suddenly reminded of the rest of my life except for this psychotic episode. I am trapped in the toilet at work, crying. Sobs are erupting from me.

I am crying because I have finally had an emotional response to the treatment I receive at my work place. I will do something about it.

I keep thinking to myself that it is my own fault. I am crying and eating crisps. I am eating salt and vinegar crisps. They have a melancholic flavour. It is a very big bag of crisps - my tears are making them into a mush.

Thoughts of revolution and quiet rebellion surge inside of me. Freedom and fun can be mine - I can be human again. I can feel things in the normal way. I can achieve all of this very shortly.

I rub the vinegar mush into my face.

When I return to the office I am asked why I have taken such a long time.

I say that I fell into some crisps and it hurt my eyes.

I sit down at my pod and join the bodies on the way to the incinerator.