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I'm just so over being watched. My advocate came running out a door at me this morning when I was on my way back from putting my son on the bus. She was all 'I'm spying on you with the cameras - have you any news on -?'
She was joking about spying. Mostly. I'm just so over it.
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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