Oh dear.

There are times when all that I do is imbued with a tangible quality of consequence. When I drink. When I fight. When I fail. This sense is comforting, it grounds me to reality and keeps my head vaguely up and in the rightish direction. Action reaction, it’s the last law. But sometimes there’s a disconnect. The consequences are so removed from the reality that I’m flung far out from the present moment, potential future, and all that exists is an unending past. When I drive a car I feel this way. The slightest nudge could cause calamity. How daft!