provincial semi finals

ninety minutes of shaking

One of us! One of us! One of us!

What?

Who?

How?

Did I?

Am I?

Am I ok again?

What did I do?

Or was it something I didn’t this time?

Oooohhhh, remove your head from your arse.

They know you.

They know a bit more now too.

Just enough really and I’m ok again?

You took a risk when you told them about your brain. Now they see you. They get why the crazy guy is crazy. They see you working.

They saw me trash talking thirteen year olds, saying shit that will offend readers here. Dear readers: Imagine your child playing in a highly competitive game, screwing up a corner kick in the dying seconds. They’re in a place where they could be the hero, but instead, they flub it. They choke. Then? The next moment all you can hear is some arsehlole howling with derrisive laughter filled with piercing delight intended to make your child feel bad about themselves, hesitate, then hesitate again in the dying seconds costing his team the game.

But that was all you did, only once and you were quiet about it.

I tried to be good

You were fine.

That was a lotta work.

A for effort, D- for delivery. You’re a solid C+ when it comes to being a human. Congratulations you mediocre turd.

I guess we’re worm food in the end?

ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!