J+13

Can you roll me a cigarette? 

Yes please. You haven’t rolled since you were at uni. And even if it was windy you could handle a little paper, tobacco and filter. But now you’re 32. You thought you were better than that. You thought you could live on vogue – they’re too expensive, bloody £16 for a packet – or vape – you never had so many gum disease in your entire life. So yeh, you’re back into the rollies. Menthol filter at least. But you dropped your tobacco everywhere and your cigarettes look like diseased chicken. Or children you’re not sure. But you don’t care, because eh you’re in charge of your life. You’re responsible for it. People say you need to prioritise yourself, you’re the most important person in your life, and you need to do what makes you happy. But what if nothing makes you happy anymore? What if you wake up in the morning and it’s like someone died over and over again. What if you don’t see the point of washing your face and your feet and your face again. What if you cycle 2 miles to get one more beer when everyone is going to sleep. What if you see his name everywhere, in the street, in the cinema, on youtube. What if you don’t recognise your face in the mirror anymore. What if you want to move to China for good? What if you want to burn the table and move to China? What if you’re actually so angry you can’t get angry? What if you want to walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk until no one know your name and your face. What if you disappear. What if you transform into basil and you can be picked up for some chinese recipes. What if you transform and you’re just soil, and dirt. What if you go back to France and you get nurtured by your family and friends. What if you give up on anything and everything and anyone and everyone. What if you just get depressed for a bit.