March 8th, 2011

Tuesday 8th March 2011.

 I say boo to see if the blank screen will fill up on its own..without me pressing the keys i wonder if this machine could read my mind,float down words i wish to say or are the old fashion throwing of Poo sticks going to win the day. Perhaps one day but not for me i am too old to throw away the comfortable shoes i trundle in,and kissing these keys with my fingers warms my thoughts as i glance at the rage in the dying of the day. As the darkness blankets the modern world,the world of gnashing of bitter teeth is endless,i thought much on this as i sat hunched on the bus tonight,the endless propaganda filling every bit of silence.
Such a foreign word now silence, it is what i felt like as i sat hunched on the bus tonight only wanting to here the bus door opening the rush of rubber tyres on the tarmac the clod night air brushing against the flowing bus.The cackle of mobile phones the way youth speak so loud filled the bus to oblivion...i sighed am i getting old perhaps so,but at least i have scribbled within a day or two so there is hope for my thoughts then.