Sunday, 25 December 2011

Christmas Day.

Had one of my classic five hours sleep again last night, followed by waking into an extreme state of anxiety. More difficult dreams.

I know what it’s about. It’s about having the two most fundamental needs unfilled – one I’m still searching for, the other is unattainable, I think. It’s about the inevitable fact that the brighter a light is, the deeper the shadow it casts. It’s about the demon that lives in that shadow, and what I know he is capable of taking away from me. And it’s about Old Father Time pointing ahead and whispering ‘Can you hear it yet? The sound of the cogs at the end of the treadmill?’

This isn’t a depressed, or even particularly impassioned, post. It’s just another muse on the state of things as a turbulent year draws close to its end.

I’m off to prepare the ingredients for a splendid Christmas lunch now.

Yuletide Greetings to all, especially those who are passing the time in the drunk tank, waiting to sober up. That’s my (serious) Christmas joke.

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