Yo yo yo, hombres and wombres. Sam here. We could theoretically be possibly approaching the hypothetical end of lockdown perchance! Prohibition is almost at an end, perhaps! There’s a light at the end of the tunnel… although you’re unsure whether that light is real or just your birdshot chorioretinopathy playing up again. You don’t know. You never know.

The pubs will soon be flooded with those who were flouting governmental dictates anyway but will nonetheless express their relief that “things are back to normal”. The cafés will soon be inundated with peckish protesters who insisted on social distance until their boredom and frustration corresponded nicely with a cause. The streets will soon be submerged in the hordes of You that never listened to the podcast during lockdown and will continue to do so notly.

So when you’re in the queue at Greggs or sipping a mocha in your favourite niche coffee-house, do spare a thought for all that you neglected when life gifted you time. Lament the projects now forever confined to the back-burner. Mourn the self-reflection that never betid.

You could have listened, I weep. I INSIST ON SHAME, I weep angrily. FYI, I’m not howling these proclamations as I weep. Their sentiments are manifest in the wepth itself.

I’m actually writing this in a good mood. Imagine that. That’s me. That’s what it is to be me. That’s my truth. Christ.