bichoose (bichoose) wrote,
bichoose
bichoose

Monday 29th December 2014.

For the forty-eight hours..which was Christmas i was simple..cook clean wash consume wine bubbles...play music take in the Queens Speech turn off the television..outside the kitchen window winter was doing the harsh dance it always does there is, was, no escape, grin scream bare it, is the only way, every winter i hope it passes me by.... But like my old friend King Canute and his failure to stop the tide.. Winter comes rolls over me in fine style..today i could stand it..other days not so, melancholy madness crawls down from witches fingers lingers in my pockets slips on to my shoe laces pulling up my collar is at least something...
Two small snaps over Christmas still play over in my mind..putting them down in words plays another game in time..perhaps i read more into them than i should perhaps simply fate and the spinning wheel, for at least the thread was not broken....So Goeth...
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