bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Thursday 4th January 2007.

Blue funks..come and go with the ease of a simple squeeze of toothpaste from the now long plastic tube;i remember those thin metal casings in which after so many bends and warps toothpaste ouzed out form all sides forced from the cracks through over bending i can remember as a kid that that was at one time my only sweetness i could get hold off and how i used to suck on the last bend in the casing in great joy happy with such a simplistic out look on life during that period before the demons started crawling out from the wall paper and dancing on the shadows forming in the curtains.We used to have back in those days summer and winter curtains,i remember the evening sun pouring through projecting pattens on the walls and how i pulled faces in clock work time as i vainly tried to fall asleep before those with long fingers wrapped their thoughts into mine.
This morning in the blowing gale, as i walked to work the blue funk held tight on to my pockets and cast a beady eye on the darkness ahead for one moment i thought a gap showed the moon but i could have been mistaken it was still early and my mind was just dusting away the night crawlers. A mid morning sun break glimmered for a short while and gosh felt i, could the blue funk turn pink..out from this possible pinkness came a shadow bringing an unexplained the shape of Mrs OZ....a lady whom i have admired for more than twenty years,those heavy breasts pushing against the trill buttoned shirts as she pushed her bike forth to the march of green wellies i ofton wondered how big her nipples were and all sorts of dark thoughts would slide around my mind after i had seen her..i would say in all those twenty years if we had exchanged more than a hundred words we could have written a book.But to day in the middle of my blue funk and the milky warm sunshine she stopped her bike and green wellies in the middle of the lane and her voice talked,we were perhaps like two people pictured on top of a chocolate box..the conversation was no more dangerous than the price of old stamps and how one could post local on the day and say one was coming around for tea..knowing it would have been delivered...and tea would have been served,such treasures have long since gone..and of all days why today did she stop surely she could not have read my mind all these years,for glances were mere seconds as her bike swiftly raced by back in those days..but i felt i wanted to record this it was a magic moment in this ever increasing up front smash and grab time warped world,it may never happen again but i just wanted myself to know that it really happened and nothing bulged or just felt tranquil.

  • 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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