Hmm.. sandwich. The layers of a sandwich, the intricate balance between spice and flavour, between sogginess and crunch, between fillings and presentation. And how does it relate to the soul? Jokes, guys. I can make a non-depressed post every once in a while. Sandwich represents comfort for me. The easy option. I love any a good sandwich. I like the fact that you can make it quick, and easy, and …yeah this isn’t working. My sandwich story isn’t amazing, to be honest. Oooh but instead let me tell you about my day, I could put it in another post, but ain’t nobody got time fo’dat. So today… I went out and actually tried to push myself out the house. It was hard. It was seriously challenging for me. All I wanted to do was sit alone and cry. But that… is not the best thing. I know it’s not the best thing. It doesn’t even feel that great when you’re doing it. You know, when you’re alone and in your room and it’s already 11am but you turn around in bed so you can’t see the light breaking through the gaps in the curtains. You try and shut your eyes for a bit longer. You’re in denial of the day. But it backfires. You already know that you have to get up  eventually. That you have to face the day. And then you heave yourself up to the bathroom to brush your teeth. And you just do it. And let me tell you…I still feel shit. But at least I was productive. I still wanted to cry when I was out. But I held it in. I had to. For goodness sake, you just can’t cry when you’re on a bus. Especially when you’re on one of those awkward seats that face backwards so you gotta look at all the passengers’ faces. Lovely. Anyway. Thanks for reading my non-sandwich-related rambling. And I still did a depressed post; many apologies. Peace and love, guys.

This is a reply to Sandwich.


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