Cotton Wool World by Eve Westwood - HTML preview

One hundred and nine

I know I keep re-iterating this but I’ll say it again. I’m so sick of what I do for a living.

I feel I’m paling into the background again. Not really here. It’s as if I could walk across the room and no-one would see me. I feel invisible.

Signing letters. Do I care? Do I even read them when they’re put infront of me to sign. No I don’t. I could be signing a letter that says ‘Fuck off you pig, I hate you’ and I wouldn’t know any different. Why? Why don’t I read what I’m putting my name to? Because I don’t give a shit, that’s why.

96

I had one of the ‘flick the page over’ calendars on my desk. I had the severe urge to work backwards. That would fuck with people’s heads wouldn’t it? I thought it could be fun.