Whatever sera

And on the third day, I had no idea what to do.

After spending two straight days travelling about here and there, I find myself trapped between losing something important and trying to prove a point. After Cambridge, and then Bicester, today was supposed to be Richmond Day. The closer ones always get the boot. Everyone's mood except me is neck-deep, and the only way to handle it was to hide beneath the comforts of my sheets.

Then there's the issue of the old flame. Business, she says. Joint business with me, she wants. I'm not really sure. I don't even have budget to begin with. This just sounds to me like a lame attempt at trolling. There's danger in us falling into each other's company, and I know it's wrong. I feel it's wrong. She was history and my present blossomed into serendipity. There's no other point.

Then I need to worry about Cotswolds for tomorrow. Maybe even Edinburgh. Friday has me working for one full day with Cora. All these have numbed my senses. Words were thrown my way, and I responded with silence. Today was a mistake out so many days. My body has changed within the years, so is my mind. I am barely that old. I feel old. The Jojen Reed effect. I'm heading to Oldtown as the young grandfather. I've dreamt about this day. Greenseer, was it? Mioseon and I even talked about this at one point. I spoke to this grandmother from Glasgow the other day, and funny enough there was a certain kinship between us, a camaraderie even, for someone whose generation was generations apart.

To hell.

Tomorrow is a bloody new day. Let me just get on with it. Whatever sera.