I find Fate surreal,in the fact that the birds are white,when death is so portrayed as black....the standing stones quite comforting after myself being thrust into the washing machine of abused words recently.I will indeed pull once more on my Walking boots,throw into the memory bank of horrors the comforting words of it is not about you, hoping such words will ease the small splinter of words i have trod on.I will no longer walk in bare feet in such company..i have no intention of going back,i have tied my last pink laced hobnailed boots for such people.
Which does make me melancholy,yet without the madness which is a blessing as i am so far from home.
I will close now,i think a shower in his sticky heat,before i pull on my black walking boots.life for me is not so much being knocked down but the ability to stand once more,yes the older i become standing is not an easy jump up,but a steady rise until i stretch out and touch the moon.
