Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend. Albert Camus An empty white page on my laptop. Too warm to write, too warm to make sense out of nonsense on my own. In fact, even when I’m not on my own, my non(sense) seems to consist of bouts of gibberish fueled by a brain roasted like a Kentucky Fried Chicken. No need to travel to the Mediterranean to have heatwaves; I never said life in Ireland would make sense. In between July 1st and today there’s been the birthday of yours truly. No, I didn’t spend it drinking, smoking and getting high. As you know, said yours truly is of the non-party-animal…