bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Sunday 15th June 2014

Today in England it is Fathers Day, a contradiction blown in all the four winds swirling around the planet, in their wake scatters so many fallen leaves over the years..fathers will want and not want, bundled up in a camels hump filled with squashed dreams and floundered panties…For myself i sigh more with relief than a field full of troglodytes…..if i could call it a job in simple terms it has been by far the hardest and toughest task on planet earth. There is perhaps a mountain of books telling one all about the living years..there is the Catholic church for whom the bell tolls and there is ones own father to paint the Picture about the rocky road ahead….how have i done myself..ask me when i am a ghost and only young foot prints gather in the sands of time to walk their own beach and watch their own sunsets….So Goeth...  

  • Thursday 12th May 2022.

    I think i need to poke my head out of the front door smell the coffee, hold my hand out to feel as if it is raining them pull on my busted stockings…

  • Monday 9th May 2022.

    Today i have started my second week without a reminder to pull on my blue uniform...i do not miss it..or am i lying to myself, perhaps... i do not…

  • Tuesday 3rd May 2022.

    I no longer drive one of these.... My blue uniform is now gathered up, old bits, new bits, consisting of shirts, high viz vests, which i always…

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