My mind is a minefield.
I think everybody has something that ticks off a bomb in their head that sends a marching band of bright flashing lights and loud crashing noises that point to a gigantic sign in your head that screams... 'IM CRAZY!' Whether that bomb is... Road rage A boyfriend A girlfriend Parents Or your nan flashing her M&S knickers to the milkman. (Again) Mine? Mine is a beast. A cruel, sticky, grotesque beast. Who threw all his baggage into his case and rammed it into my brain on a whim. Following the days after my mum got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. You lot may know him by his 007 agent name: DEPRESSION. But I prefer to call him Jim. Jim is a cock. Me and him DONT get on. He thinks that it's beyond hilarious to send surges of waves 'just when I'm feeling on top of the world' to tear me down from my golden tower and leave me drowning, gasping for air whilst his cruel razored claws scratch and scar my lungs leaving them raw to the sting of th...