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Tuesday 26th June 2007.

It is most unusual for me to trigger two posts back to back,my mind laid in oblivion stutters,or should i say really, they are habits whom wander freely,mostly on a whim,yet this freedom can be blown off coarse by the start of a single rain drop,before being trapped in one place by the down pour aftermath calling time to change to scruffy morrow.
The ticking clock tells me to move on,pull up the socks scribble onwards deadlines to meet,yet i linger,as the always on the morrow which pulls away such deadlines into a sea of green fog, not even the spiders in my head can place a web around before dropping into the deepest darkest ocean,thus ridding this morrow habit,that pulls webs to thin strips expanding the shrug of the morrow to sigh,linger,eventually falling into a full stop.
This simple habit has been with me so long,i cannot recall who first whispered such in my ear.Who ever must have, thought they had a sure fix,probably skipping down the road in glee,fortitude and anything else they could stuff inside the coat pocket flapping in the wind.I wonder if it is too late for this old woven webbed spider to runaway from all this morrow,to let the one drop flush it all away down in the catacombs,bolting the door against the howling before escaping up into the bright sunlight,of the brave new world.
So maybe tomorrow i might make this a stickle back,if i can move myself past the huge cock on show,sadly wrapped in another sorrow by the owner...what a pure waste,but then again i have been there my self..so much prime time wasted in a war of words, ideals, clashing through the sad eighties,there were drops of heavenly water but not many,if i needed a storm to flush out the spiders,gargoyles hobgoblins sailing in my mind in paper cups it was back then.

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bichoose
bichoose

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