His depression toyed on the border lines of manic. Like an ill mixed drink, the effervescing effects of constant deviation and personal wall tearing had left his mind in a constant state of cracking knuckles. Gibbering eyes, continual visual misjudgement, quick turns and a chilling anxiety had constantly left him shivering. His state was of permanent foreboding.

He had been listened to, contested, rejected, analysed, and dichotomised in upright, foetal and horizontal. No strength left in him to find the hilarity in it. He could imagine himself as a boggled eyed cartoon character with a circling scar on his bare scalp where in pure defeat the surgeon removed the cause of the ailment.

Friends and family asphyxiated him in allegiance. Pandering his needs in disconnected rapport he smiled and affirmed while the ticking bomb slowly approached to a terminal nil.

In cold distraction, he assured that the organisation of the New Year’s party was in safe hands and the net of balloons to descend in result of the countdown to another ageing year, was already set. The effect of the multicoloured zeppelins spinning in slow inclination however was somewhat tarnished by the ever-escalating volume of “Suzanne” through the speakers.

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