No Air

Existence was too difficult today. Never have I been more terrified for my own life than I was on the train back to Soton this morning. I thought the Tube was bad enough, stuck in a stuffy metal cage breathing in stale air and germs. But the overground from Waterloo literally had NO AIR.

I could not breathe for the entire journey. I thought I was going to pass away, or at least faint. When we finally got to Winchester I began to relax slightly and unfurl from the foetal position I had contorted into in panic. But then some complete twats decided to trespass on the line for giggles. So we had to stop. IN A TUNNEL. I actually shed a tear at this point. I thought that was it for me, this was hell and I was going to perish in this godforsaken tunnel. 

Obviously that wasn't the case. Unless ghosts have found a way to surpass the issue of being a mere whisp of air and can now do more than just hide remotes and lob objects at people. The thunderstorms I so eagerly anticipated haven't yet arrived, and so I am forced to suffer a night in this literal boiler room (the boiler is in my cupboard). Mmm I smell bacon...oh wait that's just the smell of my flesh slowly cooking. 

At least I will have the soothing melodies of Friendly Fires album to lull me to death sleep. Treat your ears to THIS:

Happy melting!

xSx