These last few years i can understand the feelings when the shoulders go down and the grey faces peer into the bus,so blank, with not even a muscle raised to stop this Roman bus for just a peek of what life could be outside the box mind you would they really want to be loaded with such baggage..sigh...;or the pent up emotions grow as if triffids, where before the could not careless attitude blue kisses towards the sunshine sky,bringing some hope for the day.
Those bent on changing me,us,who, into their thought worship are winning, the plodder who could not give a toss,kept happy by watering the tomato's in the greenhouse gathers with the Romans amongst the spidered cramped space of a rickety bus shelter,whilst the combined weight blowing three little pigs tunes through gritted teeth are crashing in the door.It is only a matter of time unless this up and coming generation says enough, now sod off back to the desert where you belong and hide back into the dead sea scrolls,leave us to be the humans we are..Romans..;Forlorn Hope..;the small simple folk still found under the gooseberry bush do not really need such dragon teeth full of pubic hair to bite amongst the vula boatmen.
The day is drawing to a close,and thankfully there have been some lovely moments in which to carry away from the gloom i sometimes open up something i cannot quite help from refraining from saying even if i know cyber space passes this blog by for simply who am i but a vanity wort on a dogs back,fur on fur,red cock on red cocks-fall as the beasts roar forth.The urge to masturbate today was great, but i managed to tinker on this machine to my mistress before the rush of will power broke to floss in hard skin.
This morning early doors out on delivery i side stepped a tiny bat clutching a small square of concrete driveway..should i move it or hope when darkness comes and the vampires sink their teeth into Roman beastie dreams this tiny creature looking so fragile yet magnificent will find it's way home.
The sunshine of the day bought out spring flesh in all shapes breasts heavy saggy, pert young youthful,lunch boxes holding cocks must have fried but what delight what taste hides within..sigh...
As i finished to night and left the bus the song hippy-hippy shake whispered the opening bars i turned up the volume how good for those few seconds it felt good to be alive even though my mistress is so far away,but at least i have the kite and knowing who is pulling the strings on this windswept journey is enough...
