I see you long pig. Head down. Hands in
pockets. Negotiating an Edward Hopper meets Mike Leigh landscape.
Another round fought to another split decision. You're going
the distance but what a distance. You make eye contact with a weirdo
who thinks you're a weirdo. You find a tenner but you lost twenty.
There might be something on the telly tonight but you know that there
probably won't be. The telly's broke anyway. Dieter and Annabelle
have invited you to dinner but you're not going because they sound
pretentious. A friend texts you to tell you that you're a 'miserable
bollocks'. You text back 'so?'. Somebody asks you what time it is and
you tell them that it doesn't matter. You'd arrange a protest march
against the indifference of the Universe but you know that no one would show up. The
Universe wouldn't care anyway. All that can be said has been said except for all the stuff that should be said but never will
be. This is getting repetitive. But what's that noise from
above? Everyone is standing in the road. Look up long pig. There are
crosses in the sky. It's the end of the world ...again.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
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