Now the nerves have been jangled

According to wikipedia, the very first webcam was pointed at a coffee pot at Cambridge University. Since this monumental moment in history, the webcam has been pointed at different things; panda births, naked folk, volcanoes, and traffic. I'll get one soon.It was possibly a wiser man that intimated that we, the people of earth, are as one on the bouncing ball of life, merely contented to be along for the ride. There are very few common goals in this world. In this instance the goal is not to be on the bottom when it bounces.This seems rather too sardonic a jaunt for this early on in the day and this late on in the week, but I can't feel my face and embarking on some quasi intellectual battle is an attempt to keep me firmly tethered to the ball.It has been a fun week. I bust my leg playing football but was heartened that on the same day I got a gig. I need the money for the time being. ATLEAST, worked with professionals so it was all worthwhile. Plenty of travelling. Sickness is in the post, I swear.

And as much as Europe is now a small and terrified creature with many and varied defensive mechanisms; upon ones back clawing at anything that moves within spitting distance being the most obvious. Yesterday I begin to notice the small things I do to feel comfortable;


When holding hands with someone I am inclined to place my thumb on top of theirs (i panic if I am not in control of my hand), walking down the street I touch every bollard and run my finger along railings to produce a satisfying and calming rhythm. Since the age of six I have been unable to stand on three grates on the pavement and refuse to walk under sign posts. I sleep with my back to the wall and sit with my face to the window in fear of people coming to get me. If I don't get my way I don't sleep. For Christ’s sake I am twenty and my personal weirdness increases ten fold year on year. By the age of thirty I will be the guy with a cardboard belt, a straw lined flannel shirt (for insulation) and a tin foil head piece to stop them from reading my thoughts. By forty having lost all contact with those people who stood by me in my plastic shoes phase I will be forced to work in IT. Terror. Terror. Terror.