A head full of white light behind the wheel... everyone needs to go a little nuts every once in a while.

Twilight... the last time I'd looked at the clock it was midday, only minutes ago (or so I thought)... my head humming, my limbs like distilled water running hot with electrical charge... the world in my laptop, the organised grid pattern of reports, a wire frame tunnel like something out of Tron... burning hot, my fingers dancing over the keys, flying through the pile of reports untouched... and then it happened.


I spaced... how long have I been sitting here? What time was it? Did I have any cigarettes left? Links in the chain of questions pulling taut as the draw-bridge drew closed behind my eyes severing continuity... time pulling in all directions at once and I can't lay the day out in sequence. There is no coffee on the stove. I eat another pill, crushing it up on my back teeth and sucking it down with water straight from the tap... I'm lost, floating and the colours of my kitchen pulse neon.


A phone rings somewhere in the distance... The Stooges snake waves of feedback guitar out of my stereo speakers and mix with the strangeness in my head. My body clock is driving into the future at warp speed with the hour hand swinging dangerously fast in arcs of lost time round and round and round and round and... I am behind the wheel of my car driving up the hill.


Stop to get some smokes and a bottle of orange juice.


A magpie on the road in front of me... a flash of white hot hatred and the chase is on... I am in no state to question my motives, I can barely catch hold of my thoughts long enough to understand what I am saying... the magpie is staring at me, not moving... FUCKER... I speed up, the bird won't budge... shift gear... CUNT BIRD... seconds from impact and the bird takes off, I swing the wheel to catch it on my grill as it passes across the front of the car mid-flight and then it is gone... SHITFUCKER... I am going with it into the sky and any sense that I am still behind the wheel of my car gone... gone and I am going after the bird with bile in my heart; up, up and...


crash.


The car mounts the curb and starts its way up the grassy slop of the embankment and I snap back into myself, slam on the brakes and skid back down onto the road.


Back at home... the laptop's keys under my fingertips and I am safe in familiar territory... Iggy howls over a wall of distortion and I sip my coffee, good and hot... everone hates writing reports but I like the chaos of being lost in a deadline which looms too near... push yourself and see what happens, going a little mad sometimes is tonic for the soul... my head shifts gears and we are off, lost in the task... climbing the mountain of paper work, racing onwards and upwards.