September 9th, 2007

Sunday 9th September 2007.

Darkness has fallen,the weekend has trickled through my fingers,i have tried to stop the drift in hours,tried in vain to cork,bottle, jam-jar even the tiniest of hours,so i could stop hold the clear glass in an effort to see where time drifts.
The hardest question i ask myself is have i wasted any time,should i consider sitting in the garden,with a open bottle of Chardonnay,such.The telephone rang,an instant invitation to a party not many streets away,i looked at the bottle,ho-hum to late now,the mind already wallowing in nostalgia,Opera soothing into the night air,yet gleefully some dark corner,some gargoyle up to his neck in pink ribbons,hobnailed boots indeed wanted to party.. i said yes knowing the legs would only walk in circles....the phone rang again to late brother,i could hear the laughter in the back ground,the pulling of ring pulls foaming mirth splattering on the kitchen floors,cocks in jeans crested with foaming mirth, another time,another day brother.. i after all still have a few more days left...Was i sad,yes,no,what else can i be human emotions,boiled fetched quelled i refilled the glass,pumped up the volume returned to the darkness outside,mellow in all actions.
How much time can you stuff in a weekend,maybe if i had bought the car bumper sticker..George Orwell was an optimist..i would have made the party.But then again would the telephone have even rang.