Deranged Self-Estrangement [Rev]

After crafting a magical English rendition of a
sweetly singing Spanish Import Permit, back to
Portuguese Phytosanitary Regulations - as my
knowledge of Portuguese is restricted to what I
know of French, it’s mind-boggling work - back
breaking and blood-sweating, my brain turning
somersaults in my head - interspersed by panic

attacks and adrenaline-surges of perspiration;
existential angst at levels no-one envisioned or
encountered in life, not even amidst war - this is
internal strife of probable versus real selves, the
covert probabilities wanting to take over my little
ego; leading a battle against my inner conviction
I don’t know Portuguese by madly researching

Portuguese terms - loss of identity driving a mad
run-away horse of a strange language, falling off
cliffs, abseiling down ice-bergs, climbing slippery
rock-faces; I’m gasping, near mentally deranged,
in total chaos as my mental gyroscope spins out
of control, as if I’m lost in the Devil’s Triangle in
the Japanese sea; my current state of deranged

self-estrangement calls to you to take the reins
of my runaway train…