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I am a passionate believer in self expression. Whether it's through food, art, writing, venting one's spleen, talking loud, wearing a big hat, etc...
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Another disappointing ‘can’t stay in can’t go out’ Thursday night. Wasting life’s meagre living on a losing streak.
This is my current abiding abode.
Feeling fatter and drinking too many wrecking toasts.
Wetherby I’m here for a long pause.
But what else speak you?
Silence for all-comers without knowing.
Left for a different sort of muse and sung praise.
Water and old age is everywhere
The water that gives me fear.
Yet provides me with the final tare
A lingering welling up of tears
Mettle was once revelry. Her?
A dream of twisting bodliness
Flames of rouge and bitter savagery
She stars above all betwixt
In a dancing pattern.
I fought all and now I feel naught
I thought always now I am fraught
On the edge of old ages grasp
I am chocking for a long moment.
Trying to be useful and not a slob.
But I turned into Brown’s for a binge
Gewürztraminer and meat plate consumed and discussed.
This being an early Friday 13th.
The single most clear moment of food-and-wineitude occurred in St Mawes one summers day 2010. Three amazing courses and one truly awesome Pinot Gris/Grigio. Alta Adige Tiefffenbrunner 2008.
Why did I end so fuelled up on Friday??
Life is now officially measured in coffee grounds and paper cups, lattes and cappuccino, fraps and smoothies. A cafe of oblivion. A cafe resounding the voices pellmell and eyes forlorn. Gasping and desperate to occupy a number of leather bound constrains. If I move my space will be devoured up in a melee.
So I’ve exited boldly after an hour of coffee ground into dust; but 5,000 persons forget to allow exit prior to entry and bullish push past me in drastic haste; fleeing for one on a stricken liner.
After a true gut lowering experience when I discovered my Wordpress site had vanished along, with my numerous observations since September last, I have just spent a desperate weekend trying not to fret and freak-out too much. The more I pondered the loss the more fear I set free in my mind. It was the largest disaster I could conceive. The loss of all my mind currents languid, turbid and tangled gone from the world. Gone up in a cyber smoke.
Luck has it that all is backed up regularly and reassuredly automatically so I am relieved.
A minor espresso in a rouge, brown, tan, autumnal shaded costa.
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