March 25th, 2007

Sunday 25th March 2007.

Time..;is the spider that has feasted most,the nuclear physicist in me has been hunting in the rhubarb patch but to no avail,not even wearing a kimono has spread away the usual troglodytes dancing in between my eyelids,i cannot fix the tapestry of a purple boil in someones head or solve the question of half on or half off.
I have to side step the issue,slide down and ask myself am i worth it, or my rhubarb patch would surely burst into sweet and sour running down the bus window.
It has been a full week mostly work making my hands slip from the bus door and thus my seat has been empty thus the journey has gone on forward without me,this morning is the first chance i have had thoughts of my own without the drone of human flesh crawling through the rhubarb patch work quilt laced with do this, and can you do that, and while your at it perhaps.
As i look at the dress of problems,mine are simply a pair of worn out stockings i do not have to battle with a tightening corset,or the ruffle in cobbled streets rebounding with the click of high heels holding a glass of chardonnay.Time is simply half full and some how i have to once more take my seat on the bus dressed in what ever smiling as i pass the rhubarb patch of the past week.