bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Monday 2nd April 2007.

Today for me myself,it is no mans land.The few acres of freedom before those men in gowns with hairy legs carrying things i desire yet alas they seldom use, so they would have us believe, come trotting out in billowing purple and tell me someone died on a cross for me and rose some days later and here i am now some thousand years down the dusty road sat in the shade thinking how am i going to avoid being plastered with the crown of thorns propaganda which will come ever increasing over the next few days.Why can they not go in silence into the woods and quietly say what they believe to each other perhaps they could whisper like men so the devil they created cannot possibly hear and the burning hell that waits for such as i, can ride on the wind, carried in a bucket of purple rhubarb dressed in pink kimono's just for the sheer joy of not being one of the sheep sitting on a hard pew this coming Sunday.
I am certainly one that believes each to his own, and i know somewhere down the line this coming Sunday somehow the Pope will feast around my ears..there is no escape i just wish he would simply stand on the balcony and read out article 19 of the Universal declaration of human rights which is some 59 years old and sadly swept under the carpet for most countries and simply sod off back in.Hopefully the world could take off it's blinkers and stop firing rockets in the name of who..???..and ponder on such words rather than the repent shite and the shafting light from the confession box.
Hopefully by the time he gathers his pink socks and sticks his favourite teddy bear down his underpants i me myself will be feeling the sand beneath my toes,i have simply somehow have to remove myself from this red bricked urban dung heap if only for one day to feel as if i am simply a free man as given by the magna carta yet another simple article simply forgotten by those in suits robbing us blind.They well might take my money however some of my thoughts lying in the sun eaten by basking sharks smothered in peanut butter from reading to many blogs hit by thousands,are indeed my own.
I do not have a problem of those that willingly flock to sit on hard pews to dribble from such words or those that go to carve words on the pew head board pinching out the heads of nibbling wood worms,just leave the repentance behind and enjoy life streaming through the windows..i cannot help but picture too moments in my life the young boy from next door who went to church every sunday,in one moment od madness started running around the garden shouting about what god was going to punish him with,the day at that time was bright sunlight it looked quite happy calm the sky was blue 30,000 feet white trails bloomed from aircraft you could say in a tiny second peace, but not in that young lads voice peace was not even in his boot laces...and the other of a young girl tucked up, knees to her chin many rows back in the main catholic church in Manila looking up towards the alter,in the gloom of so far away i wonder what was on her mind that day,indeed where are they both now those two who have touched my soul forever more.
I stumbled on a group tonight wandering around cyber space searching for that perfect blog which is akin to me,but that is impossible, the individual caught in my boot laces cannot fathom the depths trawled in spiders eggs hairy catterpillars rampant butterflies carrying giant eyes flustered on the first day of spring with a call of whom..???..Calling for all weird people those out on the fringe who's candle of hope burns from the other end perhaps i just might.After all it is but a simple bus ride...


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