Ill - this is not a good font for writting ill

I've been ill, ill for several days and I don't care for it much.

I was hoping to go to around to the house of some friends on Thursday and to a party on Friday - but I just stayed in feeling grotty.

There must be a use for snot; I have not yet found one that out-ways its disbenefits. Snot even makes the tissues that I try to burn on the fire a bit too soggy.

It does make me think though, feverishness, not snot.

I find fever excellent for a bit of the old existentialism - and I do like to get out more now that my mind is ..... absorbed.

Beware the elk my friends, beware the elk.

Pxx

After that all I need is.

All new reality, comes in a bag, comes in a fag hag, comes in a garden.

Did you see my eel boy, where's that fucker been?

I been catchin weasels and puttin them in tins.

Pxxx

Oh the goose is getting fat, again

Its that Xmas time of year - for getting and giving stuff, more stuff, more and more stuff. Little pieces of plastic, made in China, shipped to the UK, sent around in trucks, sold in shops, wrapped in paper, opened, laughed at, lost, found, binned and dumped in landfill. Ho ho ho.

How sad for the farmers that they have to kill all of their turkeys early - must be heartbreaking being a farmer and so surrounded by death. Death clearly comes as a shock to them - which is odd as it is their only trade.

We're so fat, we're so silly, all wrapped up like a chocolate willy - ho ho ho and a barrel of fun.

Art and stuff

Friday night, Saturday morning - dancing, gurning, smiling. Excellent.

And in the morning there was a mixture of beauty and vomit - neither of which were mine. We'd had a good time - Mary paid for hers with shakes and vomiting.

I found beauty in everything and wanted to be inside and through everything and everyone - to be at every place in time all at once, to be so deeply immersed in life, joy, pain, death, fever, laughter.... to burst out of my skin and make love to the world.

I dreamed of art - a dozen images of photographs; clipshots of reality. Close-ups of confusion and my usual want for surreal images of flesh and the weather. Corners of mouths, just the folds of skin, the roots of hair, pebbles on the beach, elbows, eyes and ears.

I wanted to be infused with love and to give so much love - to burst out of my skin and let my spirit and soul blend and dance with the world. White clouds merge into the grey, shifting and blurring through the storm; the last leaves cling to trees torn by the sea-wind and freezing rain. A few herring gulls glide and plummet, swoop and steal flashes of light.

Just one mag-pie - "good morning Mr Magpie, hows your wife and kids?".... actually, there is a mag-pie and a crow, I wonder if that affects the ditty... one for sorrow, two (well and mag-pie and a crow) for an excellent Friday night.

I think that has made as much sense I as intended. Love and stuff. Px

When the light is watching over us

I went out walking after mid-night - sometimes I can only think in song lyrics.

A couple of things have happened to me today to touch me and fill me with some joy. One of them was a small "thank you" that I had almost let slip past without noticing - I'm so glad I saw it.

Its been cold today, winter coming in and the sea looked dark against the sullen sky - a contrast to the sunset last night that filled the horizon with reds and golds from the far west almost to the far east. I watched the sun set - telling my boys to listen to hear it hiss as it touched the sea.

Pxxxxx