i reeked, i was in the company of my two primary carers, id been rumbled, my number was up, the cat had left the bag there was an odour eminating from me, a mix of some crazy weed with a moorish mozambiqe type flavour and the definite smell of bullshit of my own cultivation, no longer would the odd stint of household ironing or chores keep the curtain of normality protecting my fragile survive, survive, survive mentality, and they knew , they knew alright, i was no longer a son but some parasite that was riding the soft cushioned wave of parental responsibility, and all its luxury that came along with it, i was in their minds a bloodsucking tick and a let down, and indeed, i was.
No longer would making sure i swept my biscuit crumbs from my twentieth lazy coffee of the day off the kitchen work top keep my position of king of do nothings sustainable in this house any longer.
I remarked to myself curiously "how and why did it take them so long , and how and whyare the goverment not on to me yet"..... there was still time yet,and i reached for the lynx.
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