bichoose (bichoose) wrote,
bichoose
bichoose

Sunday 31st January 2021.

Tonight my blank white screen looks as cold as it is beyond this rooms window, January is not my favourite month, Winter my favourite word, Melancholy madness crawls from behind the wallpaper wrapping the word Boo across my old shoulders, after working outside beneath open skies these past 45 years, would i become used to all the Gremlins falling from the sky filling my ears with hot pot nonsense and sadly no; each new winter is a wasp farting in my ears...each extra layer of clothing becomes a curse from the days of King Canute...The Last Samurai is by far to far out in front for small talk sat on Toad Stools.
I have this past week been away from my blue uniform it has been a week of tick sheets with perhaps far to many bottles of white wine yet i have managed to move an inch closer to some sort of order in this shrouded room full of busted bra's and neatly folded panties..i have to stop buying books and magizines they are like the great wall of China yet they are part of me and guard me from the creatures whom rule my life with this and that or else. A few films in the evening with a few glass of bubbles have passed me by..old school boy memories creeping into the glass frothing it into sentimental tears. Music has cascaded, i have been quite stuck on Neil Youngs song..After The Gold Rush...lying in a burnt out basement during the 1970's crisply floated around my head bursting all sorts of bubbles....I have gone through a draw cramed with letters well written before the P.C...age, i asked myself whilst i neatly sorted them into plastic bags and once more slipped them away to whisper amongst themselves quite why i stopped writing letters...perhaps siimply winter but i am only kidding myself. As always the clock ticks i must be on my way
and hopefully i shall leave a crisp of winter white...
This view whilst emptying a post box the other week in Stalybridge Cheshire simply made me stand and stare for a few moments am not sure if it was the stark gravestones or the grim stonework against the brightness of the snow or simply plastic flowers on quite a few graves that made me take this piccy....However life is as they say....

To all whom pass this way love and peace take care in todays strange world, So Goeth..x
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