Malaise "Something has changed" she thought as she looked over the faces of the people before her. She scanned them. Each face she knew well. She should, she was with them everyday. "something isn't right here, something seems to be missing", the thoughts persisted. She got up, took one last look at those faces. Some looking back, sensing her unease. Others were facing each other, engaged in the usual pleasantries. She left them to walk and think. Still the feeling of something being a miss stuck with her. When at last she returned from her wanderings to the mass of people, she told herself that she tired, needed coffee or other trivial justifications. As the day progressed the feeling subsided. How could she know? How could any of them know? The next day. The people amassed as they did everyday. There they stood, waiting. All of them feeling that something was wrong. Like something was missing. But none spoke to each other about it. It was at that moment she saw me. We tried to tell the others, to warn them. But they seemed to take no notice of us. So we sat. Waiting.

36... still at it. I can be just about anything I want to be. All I have to do is just switch on the Computer. I can be an interstellar space protector or a hunter of the Darkness. The sad thing is, I am loving this way. No imagination or lack of to get in my way. In a few clicks of the mouse, joy pad or phone. I can be off on adventures to the unknown. How is it seen that this past time of mine. Is seen as a childish waste of time. The speakers of this have been sourly misled. See it's like a movie, you take part in from bed. So grab a controller, keyboard and mouse. fire up that system you have in the house. load up a title and get settled in. You may end up losing but eventually will win.

Bleh Slipping, sliding, falling The infinite void is calling To feel darkness' embrace To hide my panic stricken face Like some flotsam on the waves No control of things these days With rocks for the waves to break My glass smile is harder to fake To be unbound, happy and free What I would give to feel like me Isolated, cut off yet surrounded by others Never show them, my sisters and brothers It's dark here and it's cold Is this just how it is, or part of getting old Answer me, I'm calling, can you not hear me? Help.

The Funnel I am skirting the funnel Falling into the tunnel Soon I may hit the bottom of the bottle Safe Closed No one can find me. That is the bottom of the bottle. But no. I cannot go down. I must climb out. I mustn't go deeper. The top is open. I feel exposed They will all see me Weak Unsteady Second guessing my second guesses They cannot know But the edges are smooth. I cannot find my grip. Someone throw me a rope. Help me come out of this place. But I cannot ask. The thought slips me deeper. They won't understand. Or will they? No. I must do this. I have done it before. It'll wipe me out But I must get out.

? Why? Why not? But why? For SCIENCE! No but why? Just get out! Sometimes my mind thinks in pretty weird ways. I will be working and suddenly I will redesign one of the many random things I had designed in the past. Or stupid stuff will come in like "Flat Earthers, they can't be real, can they?" I even had a debate recently, entirely in my own head about all the sexualities and came to the conclusion of "Phuq it, can the extra labels, we are sexual beings. End of. Pan, poly, bi, A, hetero, homo. Let's just be sexual". But it's the fixations that get me. Do we all have them? You know. That thing (The Thing), the one you can't stop thinking about. I write them down in a good old fashioned book. Don't trust the Internet. Take the opening bit. That came into my head, while eating. Just enjoying the food. Then bang "why?". So I thought I would share. Good night and sweet dreams. What if? ***Added, it was a Melton Pork Pie***