Right wrist swollen. Hot to the touch. Four hours of broken sleep thanks to a dog barking outside, then a neighbour coughing up the first cigarette of the day at 6am. The horsefly which bit me on the wrist yesterday is laughing hard from the place insects go to when they’ve been crushed to death. I felt the mouth pieces pierce my skin with a sharp jab. Now whatever bacteria was on that evil proboscis is breeding under my skin and causing me to fear things flying around right now. Every fly, or moth, is an animal trying to hurt me.
This constant state of fear won’t last. That’s the lie I tell myself, anyhow.
But beneath the fresh hell of another animal trying to kill me, I feel happy. It’s funny the effect people can have. Even from a distance. Thanks to my friends visit I now have a beautiful set of thoughts to return to when I want them. Like a good, righteous, film. Or the best album I’ve ever heard. Play and repeat, and love the feelings.
More Redbush tea. There’s no caffeine in it. And maybe that’s showing, because I’m 169 words in to this and I don’t know where I’m going with it. I keep returning to those thoughts. I suppose I’m allowed. I’ll take it as Karma, maybe some Cosmic payback.
You don’t turn your back on feelings like these. Not if you’ve learned anything about how the Universe works. Or the consequences of ignoring an instinct.