I just want to feel normal, I think, or not abnormal, something other than the abortive chemical intrusions that constitute my emotions. My doctor gave me these pills to level me out, demure little blue things barely bigger than my pinky nail. The side effect sheet reads like an apocalyptic to do list cataloguing third world contagions. I may experience some or all of them. It’s supposed to be a tangible response to an intangible problem, it’s like the emperor’s new clothes if the dude was into skeet shooting, you know. Though, you can’t kill what you can’t see.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.