I didn’t realise I was digging until I felt the blisters. Once I knew what I was doing, the pain was all that kept me going. I was in over my head before I realised I wouldn’t be able to fill myself in, too deep to provide the hole purpose. I’d wanted a dirt cage to die in but found myself in a horrifying stasis chamber with slim chance of success. I thought if I approached from another angle I could tunnel to oblivion. I didn’t realise I’d dug myself free until I felt the glaring of the light.
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.