the brilliantly leaping gazelle

I had another bad night last night. Not as bad as the night before, mind you. I remember having a waz and checking my ‘phone at 03.47 and then being awake for what could’ve been a couple of hours, before being woken at 08.09 by a text. That I could’ve done without. That and being drenched in sweat at shitting cock o’clock.

I know I’m anxious; the problem is that I don’t know what exactly it is that I’m anxious about. It’s like an all-pervading general anxiousness, except that it runs according to its own clock; it’s never the same level of anxiousness at 4pm as it is at 4am. But it’s always with me, sometimes more present than at others, and the truly bizarre thing is, I get anxious when I’m not aware of my anxiousness.  

Anxiety is something I’m well used to since waking up from the coma years ago now. I wrote yesterday about the growing sense of disassociation from the lives’ that we lived. Well, I know how that feels, the sense that what was no longer is, that things one assumed would always be, because it never dawned on one it could be otherwise, were now been. 

If the past is indeed another country, then my past is the Roman Empire. No delusions of grandeur then.

One of the great things about the internet, aside from the freely available porn that is, is the sheer amount of music that has been uploaded onto you tube. It really is a lifesaver. For example, as I type this, I’m listening to ‘Essential Classics’ via the BBC Sounds app, and thanks to you tube, I can share this piece of exuberance with you.