I sit in the same room with rabbit hay strewn round – ale in hand. Shit – many years, n many beers too, much nonsense spouted n more to come. These hops give life to some quiet part of a dream inaccessible otherwise buried under dry (wine) humour and foul cynicism. A nudging, feeble recollection of forgotten quotings, grumbled – downcast already defeated eyes lunar slit – unearthed by proof and burning windpipes.
The confidence is gone hours hence, replaced by an unsettling feeling in the gut and a soul that is raw to the touch. Consider the subtleness of the red sea, as you tinker your tea. Morning. Window. Rain.
Consider a snail crushed, something as common as war.
Lovvvvvved this post! Is it wrong that it made me want to drink? Really cool how your guy blinks at me
beautifulawareness, I’m glad you liked it. If you want to use this post as a scapegoat for your drinking habits then that is fine by me. I’m happy you mentioned that, I created it last night after becoming sick of losing staring contests to my illustrated self.
V atmospheric. SD
Where you drunk or high on some LSD when you wrote this?
Pretty cool actually, give me what you are taking.
I really like the way you worded you piece. I had fun reading it with your eyes looking at me.
thanks for following me…. nice piece you got there… 🙂
absolutely in love with this
And that is how you render someone speechless. Good job! 🙂
Wow! I am beginning to think you might be a genius. The serious point behind this conversation did not escape me and I love the way you bury the stabs so shallowly under the by-the-way style of your writing. I am a convert, a fan, and now a follower (and I don’t easily click that button because it means work, and if I can’t even chuck out stale Cheerios you know I don’t sift through e-mails unless I really want to 🙂 )