Been unable to write.
Still unable to write.
Not for lack of ideas, nay Ser.
I. just.can’t.write.

So decided to try writing on how my wonderful day went.

It began with waking up at an awkward angle, elbow tucked in a position i can hardly remember now. With careless ease, i tried changing sides and that was when it hit.
Exquisite pain.
I left my mortal body and came back.
After whimpering like a wounded goat, finally got out of bed and managed to shower.
Had to get to work.
I debated staying home, but nay.
Pay day Thursday.
Took me forever and some minutes to dress up and leave the house.
No breakfast. Painkillers, i assumed were in my bag.
Walked to an offlicense shop that sells chinchin.
It is my drug.
Judge if you like.
Missed my bus just for that.
Went to shelf.
No chinchin.
I whimpered inside.
Pieces of my life crumbled away as i bought the driest sandwich i ever ate, ass I would find out on the bus.
The bread is still stuck in my throat somewhere.
Jump two buses to get to work.
Hit my hurting elbow hard..several times.
Suffice it to say by the time i got to work, i was a blubbering, sobbing mess.
Settled down. Had lunch.
Check bag for painkillers.
Left it on the bed.
Work mode.
I suspect my boss forgot whatever medication he takes for his ‘whatever’.
Everything was a scream.
My elbow was driving me mad.
He was sitting so close and screaming so loud.
My old scars began itching.
Yes, several times, i contemplated smashing the talking old man’s face in.
Only the pain would have upset my elbow.
Closing time couldn’t have come any faster.
Waited for bus.
Began raining.
No umbrella.
Waited in the little shelter the bus stop provided.
Got in one.
Should have remained in the rain.
I entered a bus going to hell.
My headphone were stuck to my ears.
Music at its loudest.
I sat (unknowingly) in between the devil and his first born child.
The devil was in front, screaming into his phone.
Yes, i could hear him over my loud music.
Someone was owing him money.
I was ready to pay him whatever amount to shut him up.
He quieted.
I whispered hallelujah.
The the devil’s first born began coughing.
Again, i could him over my music.
The noise startled me.
Elbow hit board.
Bit my lip hard to stifle my scream of pain.
Bloodied lip.
As i was praying for the bus to get to my bus stop, the devil’s father revealed himself.
Someone farted on the bus.
Noxious, disgusting, choking smell that brought tears to my eyes.
The father of Satan didn’t wait for the smell to disperse before releasing another one.
At this point, I was ready to stand up and address my fellow travellers.
For the love of God! Make una moderate una mess na!
I didn’t.
I am a wimp.
Yes, i was on a highway to hell.
Bus finally got to stop, my next bus was just in front.
Wanted to run for the bus.
But oh no.
The devil’s grandmother was before me, reliving her wedding day, waddling slowly like it was a FUCKING WEDDING MARCH!
Missed bus.
No bus at the station.
Sitting right here, getting cold, thinking about life.
Thinking about the second dry piece of sandwich in my bag.
I should bin it.
Or wait..
Might just be hungry enough soon.
Listening to Chris Brown, asking me to look at him.
Something niggling the back of my mind.
I open my bag.
Left my paycheck at the office, on my desk.