At lunchtime I walked around the building, just to stop myself going crazy. A couple of minutes' walk takes you from identikit office buildings to woodlands and fields, bluebells and celandines, trees full of sun and shadow. In a lunch-hour you can almost get out of sight of the bars of the cage. It started to rain just as I started walking, and for a moment I was going to go back inside, and then my feet carried on walking and the rain stopped. Everything felt low-ceilinged, though, even outside, even the point where suddenly there was a view across a field where all the daffodils in the world were growing, and at the other side of the field was some kind of incredible space-age building. I felt like I'd pushed through the fence somewhere and was watching something I shouldn't be watching; something from a film, something wide-angled. I took photos, not to record anything for posterity (You are not here to verify, instruct yourself, or inform curiosity or carry report) but just to make sure I didn't walk by without seeing anything. I took stupid photos with no focus, close-ups of nothing, wide views of everything.
Everything I see is either too big to comprehend or too small to make a difference. I'm suffering from a chronic error of scale, a lack of perspective that bends the edges of the room so that nothing's the same size. I don't fit through the doors that I have the keys for, and I don't have the keys for the doors at my level; and now I'm late again, late for everything and nothing.
I'm so tired.
