1,2,3…and breath…

Some days its pretty easy to remember to breath…you would think…its one of those small details of daily life; if you don’t do it…your fucked! But then there’s those days…when the world starts spinning and you can feel that impending doom feeling taking it’s grip and you start analysing the ‘whys’…have I eaten? Have I had enough water? Have I taken a dump? Yep ticked all those practical boxes…so moving on to the emotional analysis…have I taken on too much? I am aiming to high? Do I have any deep-seated resentment festering underneath the skin?…No…so, Yep tick those boxes…I’m sweet on all those fronts…

Okay…so what’s the matter with you mofo??…

Ohhhh…you’ve been holding your breath for the last 48 odd hours. Brilliant!

So, on the breather thingy I go…and abit of a blog to recap the sitch-a-shin…


  1. You’ve set yourself a destination and timeframe for tonight…2 hours maximum 30 minutes minimum, at an acquaintances birthday celebration.
  2. You’ve figured out that there are only 2 people you know going and that there’ll be strobe lights so you need to be outskis by dark time.
  3. You’re as nervous as fuck but trying to remain in tact and on task.


So I’ll stay on this little breather machine thingy for a bit longer and may return to it later…actually I may even take the fucking thing with me tonight if it helps me do what I’ve set out to do.

By fuck I’ll do this…

Breath bitch…breath!


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