When somebody says a post was aimed at you, the first thing you tell yourself is that there’s such a thing as a one-off. Even when you’re in a fried out combie and your head is full of zombie. And a strange lady is making you nervous. And some air-headed young guy is dancing the way you used to do, while others sing seductively of sun-kissed skin and illegal substances. And a very beautiful woman says ‘Yes,’ even though she doesn't mean it that way.
What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause.
Work that one out. Ha!
It’s late in Britain and the big B beckons.
I might be sensible again tomorrow. Or I might not. Some things are just too deep. This post might be temporary. Or it might not.
2 comments:
I can;t figure it out:( and it seems no one else has. and its 1:14 am here.
I'm best ignored in that mood, Carms. I expected to be ignored. It might be something to do with having been born on the same date as William Blake!
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