Hope
I fucking hate pigeons. I forgot to shut my bedroom window completely only to come back to three of these cunts hovering, panicking and flapping their wings at my sight. They could neither sit in patience nor let me help them get out. I’ve had quite an eventful past few weeks. I’ve gone from feeling incredibly terrible in every waking moment to realise that I can’t do anything about things I have no control over - to just trying to breathe in my reality without having a breakdown every day - to feeling my breath ease with each passing night. The Sandman on Netflix is brilliant. I cannot get out of awe of Neil Gaiman. Motherfucker put the comic out in 1989 and it’s every bit relevant, 33 years later. And for those of you who’ve watched other shows based on Gaiman’s books [Nirvana, are you here?] you think you know what to expect, only you don’t. The story depicts a wannabe, emo, [initially] weak-ass bitch with punk hair as ‘Dream’, one of the four siblings [besides Despair, Desi