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Friday 23rd January 2015.

Some Fridays i urge to come, creeping over the mountain top, kissing me with a host of ideas to drown in....perhaps also to rest beneath some tree in the wild wood....others i never want to peer at me and whisper time is up....Today i needed badly to shuffle over my weary pink laced hob nailed boots and greet Friday with open arms... been such a bugger in the working saddle sitting on a thorn cushion would perhaps have been far more comfortable..not so much the mountain of rain drops to squelch from my uniform, the sharp intake of breath as the wind howls from the hedgerows cutting across bare skin in razor blade shuffle...no this week has been the mental brass band playing inside my head blowing horns loud enough to stoop beneath the tallest tree...casting Goblins to run amok..not even stood with WInnie The Poo pondering the fastest Poo Stick slipping down the river...has cast aside the Goblins of all Goblins...and their itchy fingers curling even in the night air...
Tonight i heard a Young boy say he was the Purple Ninja to his friend..he certainly did not look purple in the slanted light breaking from the lamp post in the cold of the night...But perhaps he was inside his mind...i smiled to myself...young enough to not to have heard the word Masturbation..young enough to dream in triple...I wanted to be A Fighter Pilot at his age...So Goeth...

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bichoose
bichoose

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