Know some days you have a song, or a chorus, or just a lyric, a quote, or just an idea that sticks in your head all day. No matter how hard you try to forget it, ignore it, or even remember where it came from, but you never move forward, and you never move back. Just the one constant thought playing over and over again in your head.
Today this was mine:
”And this is where it ends.”
It was the first thought when I awoke this morning and it followed me all day constantly niggling at me. I knew it. I knew its tone. I knew its rhythm. I knew it was something.
It came with images, vivid images, not of its origins, but of where I’d seen it written down in the past, but never of where I’d heard it spoken except in my own voice. I couldn’t work out if it was a song, or a poem, a line from a book. Then it struck me.
I finally got a free second in my head. Out in the dark, in the cold, alone. Me and the stars. And it struck me.
I’m taking this as a sign.
The end of a chapter.
The end of the book.
The play has closed and the seats are empty.
'For I move on'.
do you ever look at your follower count and think wow i tricked all these people into thinking im cool
Annoyingly while standing in work today dressed head to toe in jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie (civvies) I realised, just how much more comfier and confident I felt standing in or walking down the middle of a street in public, dressed head to toe in various items of rubber/latex gear.
Fuck Scotland for being so Shite when it comes to being individual.
And Fuck it for being so cold that wearing rubber outside could only result in pneumonia.
And now I realise just way all the Rubbermen move south of the border.