Wasi has something to share

Somehow we faded like the blooms of the bunch you bought me the day you told me it was over and i felt something drain from me - maybe colour, maybe hope and my disbelief was a feeble wash of grey as their colours drowned, dripped, dropped from blossoms to mulch i drooped catching every ray as it passed through their vase sucking light and life desaturation to a severe degree head bowed you tilted, wilted trudged your way to the door in a moment of reanimation i rediscovered my true colours took up that vase and aimed your exit became explosive befitting, that crowning glory 'smashing', they all agreed

I need to take a little lie-down a bit of a time out, just a few decades or so to realign, re-assess, rejuvenate and return to myself; a while for the world to catch-up with itself, a pause from its eternal spinning into infinity and for me to adjust to my own insignificance within the universe. It’s probable it’ll take a little longer, centuries, perhaps even millennia to even come close to beginning to understand to get even iota of an inkling of what it all means, and who I suppose I am supposed to be. The why of it all does not even bear considering; this world will have frozen over, or maybe heated to cinders and beyond ash a thousand times over before any mere human could even come within harpooning distance of that particular truth. And if by some crazy miracle, some spectacular flaw in the passing of the seasons, the turning of the tides, and the order of the constellation. any mortal should stumble onto a glimmer of this conundrum, the ferocity of the light of such immense kno...

Some days I like to try and defy time attempt to throw a spanner in the works or even tinker enough to turn it back, even if only a little Slip on that green jumper - you know, the one she knitted me with the crazy bobbles, and monkey-long sleeves struggling valiantly in the cupboard against feasting moths and out of it, on, hanging down to my knees. Make hot cordial in a mug so big I need two hands to hold it and it covers my nose as I drink. Wear giant woolen socks that pick up the fluff and sit back on the sofa watching Sam be baffled at every new leap or Fox telling Dana why she really should believe or maybe just dancing round the living room to Stevie and Michael and Lionel and Bob.