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Tuesday 14th October 2008.

I sometimes wonder why i sit in front of this machine,not seeming to scribble in this blog..have i become a lazy sod..or too enthralled with other bits of the cyber space i peer into each night, as i happen to pass this way.
This journey of sorts in bummble rummble creeks down the highway of wants, means, and spitting out the worlds polish with ease,which can be so easily found roaming around my mind.
The gargoyles with friends the hobgoblin are pulling up their pink laced hobnailed boots..i can feel them itching to stomp lazy sod..the raw song from the sex pistols, splits the echos down my valley way...i do spy the forlorn hope regiment who surface along the horizon each beginning, when tress return to sleep and become witches fingers, bare all they say, all sky ward how they screech towards the crimson moon.How the rush of rubber tyres passing pause no...
I walked to work this morning in darkness, befriended by falling rain..kiss me i thought, shrug me my body insisted as each step brought closer the clock of time.
Tonight released by such a clock i walked home in the dark once more befriended by rain drops..i had no energy to do a Grace Kelly..instead i remembered the song by Bruce Springsteen " I'm on fire "..i felt the needle drop onto the turntable hiss ziss as words followed the darkness, as i passed the trees i looked for old ghosts of friends no longer on the footpath of life, shrugged my shoulders and would just once luv to watch a steam train roar through as i strolled over the railway bridge..gosh how time has changed so much in my life span thus far..i am not unhappy..neither far to melancholy to say Boo to myself...and smile i could have been a caterpillar...

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
fuzzilla
Oct. 14th, 2008 11:42 pm (UTC)
I stumbled on an interesting cover of that song:

foucaultonacid
Oct. 15th, 2008 03:10 am (UTC)
ifd it helps, i wanted to sing i'm on fire for my audition for a part with the local choral soceity's production of joseph et al, when I was 8. my mum would not let me. she made me sing we are the world. i did not get a part. not true - i got a part non speaking filing the nails of potiphar's wife.
hughknox
Oct. 15th, 2008 03:53 am (UTC)
greetings, sir. is all that rain depressing you? are you taking a holiday from the chardonnay? how about emailing the old savage and let me know what you are really up to and what you do in the evenings.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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