Sometimes I felt so shit that I could've bitten my fingers right down to my knuckles. Anxiety is a strange beast. My skin didn't feel like my own, in fact it felt like a Soviet issue woolen sweater in a sauna - I really, really just wanted to throw it off.
I grit my teeth and push my feet forwards through the snow. The sun is coming up, its soft glow illumuniating the mountain range around the city. The softest pink you can imagine that faded smoothly and imperceptibly into a cool sky blue. I'm not a believing man, but this truly was God's country.
Did I feel calm before? Is all of this just a weird longing for something that never existed?
I don't know.
But what I do know is that my insides were churning (maybe I'm hungover?). It almost felt natural to act crazy, you know, like twitching my head and looking shiftily to my sides at random intervals with intense conviction, focusing on whatever was there, a sign, a squirrel, a roma gypsy.
Once I caught myself in a terrible mental loop, reinvisioning past mistakes. The only way I could break it was to say 'fuck' under my breath (but loudly). I think I scared the girl and her tiny dog walking in front of me (why do pretty girls always have tiny dogs?) beacuse she jumped with fright and her tiny dog squirted out a tiny shit.