Things Turn Out All Right

An attack of anxiety, no more waffles
for me at Kingsley, I cannot fall asleep
in my chair with all eyes upon me, can-
not play freely on the Internet, cold
fingers enclosing my heart, the future
looks dark, how shall I get through the
day if I have to concentrate on a docu-
ment, no more recording thoughts or
looking at Slaughter Engineering or
aliens in underground bunkers or crop
circles or Russian research on genetic
Internet

How shall I survive not closing a door
and thinking my own thoughts, keeping
up my head, not wilting when suffering
allergy - suddenly I am beset with a self-
destructive desire to eat all the wrong
foods, longing for bread that makes me
hyper-active and noisy before dropping
off to sleep involuntarily - no escaping
the boredom of life by eating chocolates
and passing out with fluctuating blood
sugar levels - no more dancing and
singing in my office

At least, the acoustics on Kinsley’s staircase
is good, tried it out, sang aloud while walking
from floor to floor, greeting all security guards
and explaining my mission – to reacquaint
myself with the rest of the Department Arts
and Culture; when I mentioned floor six and
Language Service; smiles appeared, then saw
the same security guard we had at Metropark,
moved with us to Arts and Culture; mockingly
threatening me to beware wandering off into
enemy territory instead of staying on the six
floor as duty prescribed

I shall tackle the tomorrow’s problems tomorrow,
with all the goodwill I met today, things are
bound to turn out all right!