Time trial

Your face is blue and expres­sion­less. Your face should be yel­low. Dif­fer­ent col­ours suit you, almost as much as your words. Con­sider ask­ing: do you still want me to climb into your mind and live there for a while? I’m not so sure any longer; I spend enough time in minds. Not only mine, either.

I hear these sirens going off in my head inter­mit­tently. They wake me at three o’clock in the morn­ing and my eyes dart around in the black­ness as I won­der which emer­gency ser­vice has finally come for my soul. I throw the duvet on the floor and rush to pray at the white altar, for­cing out the demons with heavy breaths and even heav­ier eye­lids. Then I sleep the sleep of the guilty — rest­less, in other words.

Still hear­ing those sirens, though.

Credit: On a spon­tan­eous whim, I asked Andre Jordan, of Andre Jordan fame, if he would be kind enough to illus­trate the above with one of his fab­ulous draw­ings. And he agreed. And I didn’t even have to pay him or nuffink. Andre is cur­rently avail­able for com­mis­sions, although he may well insist on cash from now on.