By 
Another week has flashed before us. What’s changed? It’s certainly not getting any less weird, that’s for sure.
Humanity is slipping from our fingers.
It’s getting harder and harder to decipher reality from fiction these days.
Has the entire world gone completely insane?
Where are we?
What’s real?
Who knows?
…Who cares?
I ran into a friend in the supermarket the other day.
We had a perfectly normal conversation and stood talking for a good 15 minutes before saying our goodbyes.
That’s when I realised the contents of his shopping basket, which consisted of roughly 20 tins of sardines and one large tub of Kerrygold butter.
What kind of feast was he preparing?
I saw him pay for his shopping at the till before he looked back, waving a final cheerio at me, like everything was normal.
Like he didn’t just buy a barrel of sardines and butter.
I will never be able to look at him the same again.
Is this what the world has come to?
I’m writing this now in a coffee shop.
Sitting opposite my friend, whom I meet on a regular basis.
But we don’t talk.
We drink about three cups each while I scribble this kind of nonsense into my phone, straight from the brain.
He stares blankly out the window.
Why do we do this?
Maybe we need it.
This could be some kind of an escape for both of us.
But an escape from what?
Is this an island of stability in the midst of a turbulent sea?
No doubt I’ll see him again in a couple of days for another silent meeting of nothingness.
And on-and-on it goes.
The cycle continues.
We’re all trapped in this bubble. This soup of sardines and butter.
