Damnit, breathe. Don't puke, now. Breathe. The Food was sloppy and poisoned but you are a rock. You are an island.
Breathe for your footsteps, one at a time. Breathe to wake the air of its stillness. Breathe. Breathe despite the bumpy Metro. Close your eyes and breathe - is this better or worse?
Oh, I don't know, just breathe.
Breathe, you rock you island, breathe.
Steps, now, lumbering sturdy, stoice, strong. Breathe.
Walking is just you now, you have control.
Breathe for how close you are now. Breathe because you're still so far away. Breathe.
Breathe for the rituals you've lost and the traditions you've gained. Breathe.
Breathe it's the way through danger and despair.
Breathe up the steps and to your room where you Breathe you lay on your sheets you washed but did not put back on your mattress yet damnit.
Breathe it's fine. It's comfortable. Control.
Oh, no, breathe but maybe not oh boy if I don't get this out it'll be there for days. Oh, breathe, but don't - Puke?
Oh, I hate Puking but the waiting is the hardest part. Do I breathe? Choking doesn't do it, only retching.
I breathed too well and now the poison stays in me.
Puke. Ugh, I want to Puke but I goddamn hate Puking. Puke. How does one Puke when you've spent your life stopping the Puke?
Oh, I know Puke Oh think of the food. Puke.
Puke and think of the food that did this to you. Puke. Puke and stew on that lamb and chicken over rice with the all-too-creamy white sauce. Wait and Sit. And Puke. Think of the choice to get Tasty Kebab even though you knew it would end like this. Puke. Oh, Puke, here it comes!