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Sunday January 06, 08
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07:39 AM - Oratory of Old
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Onto a pulpit, seasoned and decaying I climb in order to trumpet disparagement, simply because I've absolutely nothing else to do. '08, and resolutions have already been hatched and broken, as has a new year with revelry in tandem. Five days in and I'm already sick thinking of the next 360... sheer misery.
An atmospheric armageddon is in the cards and to those who can't see that we're headed towards such an end, well... to them I say please re-think your theories about the earth being flat and at the centre of the universe. Insane to think, but tomorrow it's to be 15C, which is simply unheard of. A couple days ago it was minus that same number. So in three days we'll be experiencing a 30C change in the weather, which is frightening. But volumes can be read on the subject by people far more articulate and knowledgable than I, so I shall digress and move from what's before my eyes to what's dancing about in front of my mind's eye, so-to-speak.
Loss of self.
A penny for your thoughts? Do be more original. But if you must know, being wise beyond your years in some ways yet sardined with inexperiences in others is about as padded cell worthy as a pop princess named Britney and, undoubtedly, it'll cripple your insides in quite the same fashion hearing about the French winning at anything other than a cheese eating contest would. Huh? You heard me. *Only half joking*
Truly, I feel completely and utterly outside my skin these days and in ways unlike I've ever felt before. It's not dementia, but rather a phantasmal pummeling, compliments of time's pendulum swinging and striking at speeds rather excessive and alien to me. So many situations, good and bad are volleyed my way any given day and before I've a chance to digest any of it I'm bombarded by a cannonade of newly spawned scenarios rank with resin from yesterday's unresolved issues. Lunacy in bloody over-drive I swear it all is, and don't think about checking out the wreckage in the rear-view either, for someone's slipped that weird-ass carnival mirrored maze crap in place of the stuff you've grown accustomed to, so even what's now behind is forever altered. Brutal, brutal stuff but you know, there's absolutely no bloody way off this ride and so, onward and upward we all must head, if only until presenile dementia takes hold, inadvertently unshackling the ghoul within and placing its taxing demons to bed for good.
Indeed... barrel forth insanity, if only to save me spiritually and, of course, emotionally!!
Trudging slowly over beaches of emotional and psychological quicksand until the end,
the dustiest of shadows
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While it could be occasionally spotted groping Spring and stumbling through a seedy motel doorway, at its core Winter was committed to being Winter.
Anymore, the flighty seasons don't know how to be (or are dissatisfied being) themselves and seem to be grabbing for the celebrity usually only accorded the others.