no energy left after massive tooth extraction. the nitrous oxide came in handy, i sucked it down like a jelly fish mantra, my bones floating in painless europic daze, eyeballs must have glazed over as the dental assistant looked quite glamorous in her strange medical uniform and lipstick, big eyes and groovy smile. she said her name was mallory and i was taken in to a literary fantasy. even when i came back, mouth filled with blood and a dent in my finances i thought it was good value for money to have shared a little mallory fantasy. it was a romantic period piece with some bold problem solving as we solved the riddle of the ancient and lost city out in a desert somewhere, in a field of ice, on a tropical remote island, underwater, in deep space mallory and i foiled the villains, rode off into a laughing gas cloud of false hope and childish fantasy.
off course there's always the residual downside to these drugs, nightmares and peripheral hauntings but for a girl like mallory it's all worth it.

the day goes from stinking hot to cold, to wet and humid to strangely tropical and the cockatoos swarm outside mission control, making a racket, swooping and carrying on like punks of the skies, these feathered friends don't care if they wake up the neighbourhood. i find time to watch them, even though there's some sort of 'spill' in canberra and apparently people think it will make a difference therefore it's news. in my heart i just know it's all degrees of worse to worser, politics is the problem. the birds play, they swoop and criss cross the skies, they all line up on the telegraph wire, hundreds of them. one comes over and sits next to me. he's massive, sulphur crested. i don't know what to do, he wants something but i'm to fucking wiped out to consider feeding him. he nods his head and flies off back to his mates. the noise is amazing, it's so loud and raucous. i sink back and imagine myself being a bird, swooping and flying, riding thermals and playing bird games with other birds. i'm like the young king arthur from 'sword in the stone' t h white, such a magnificent series of books. yes i feel like that boy, grown up into a king with all the weight of the world upon his shoulders. looking back at being an impossible kid.