Pondering and Playing with Passes.

All shall pass, and all shall come to pass.

I’ve done the first bit. Now I’m waiting for the second. I reckon it only works if you believe in reincarnation.

Mountains have passes, don’t they? But boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses, do they? Yes they do; that’s a load of tosh. My favourite box office girl was wearing glasses today and she looked absolutely delightful. In different circumstances (like me not being thirty years too late and already spoken for,) she would certainly have been in the frame.

Frame? Glasses? What a clever little rambler I am tonight. It’s what happens when you finally manage to come up for a gulp of air. It sends you strange. Wait for it, though; I’ve a feeling I’ll be going back under shortly. Untergehen looms.

So, off to read that poem again now, the one about crushing and being crushed. I’m trying so hard to understand life before I have to give it up.

Do you know, I think this might be the cleverest post ever.