I stretched awake, monstrous movement and writing limbs, I wrestled with the notion of leaving my slumber. I never open my eyes slowly, as romantic moments in fim noir would have you believe. I snap awake, as if the greatest danger would be waiting for me. It’s the strangest moment of my day every day, it takes time for my senses to come to me and for those few seconds, I know what it is to be truly lost, to be abandoned in my own mind. I recognise nothing, I understand nothing, and I am not myself.

It doesn’t last, my trapdoors opening up, the fluid of my thoughts begins to channel through the proper lines and I become "me" again. Once I enjoyed this moment, because for a moment, I couldn’t remember anything, so I couldn’t remember how much I hurt. I forgot what had come before and I was grateful for that slight release, but as I became aware, my heart became like lead.

I swing my legs to the carpet and feel that strange wiry mess upon my feet and scratch my head. Usually, this is accompanied by the arrival of children to the local school, their cries of glee at a new day stood in stark contrast to my rebuttal of what I had to come. Its windy outside, I see the manufactured, there but for the grace of the council play trees, their branches dancing in the strong northerly. Today would be a good day for a walk, but today I can’t.

I hear the pap of a deep baritone horn; my friend has arrived. I have slept too late. I go to open the door and let him in. his usual cries bring me a little warmth. He always makes me smile.

“Alright nonce breath, you just got up…you lazy fuck” he spits out without thought. Our natural conversation has been developed over many years of friendship, to the point where we can understand every subtle nuance, every movement. He’s been a good friend, not your conventional one mind, but is conventional..and who on this feckless earth wants average in a friend, but that’s something for later introspection.