Blink Twice for Yes

I can never make up my mind. I’m kinda like the weather sometimes. I’ll feel like raining, but then I’ll be sunny, and sometimes I’ll rain anyway, just to see a coloured arc stretching across the sky. But the best is when I’m cloudy, with a strong breeze blowing and bringing the smell of rain. Just the smell of it. Unfulfilled promises of things are usually better than the things themselves. One of those strange things in life. Don’t ask me why. Maybe we just get complacent. Or bored. Maybe it’s easier to imagine something as perfect than delude yourself when you’ve seen it isn’t so. How’s that for a harsh critique of life? It’s not really that harsh though. I mean, I’ve been harsher.

I thought about it, and I’m in full agreement. So don’t try and stop me.

Why is it, that something you desperately don’t want to be true, solely by the vehemence of your desire, becomes almost more real? As if you wish it into existence, by wishing it out of existence.

Could you stop the world please? Yes, right here thank you. I’d like to get off. I could really do with stretching my legs, and I just feel so cramped here. Would you like to come for a walk? Just once around the block before dinner. Maybe twice if the mood takes us. And we can sing as the wind blows through our hair and whips our voices away. But what will we sing about? I know an old sailor song, and I don’t think it matters that it’s a little bit bawdy, and uncouth. The words don’t really matter. Or maybe we could sing it without words. Or I’ll sing rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb, and you can harmonize with crumble. And we’ll march together. People may look at us, but we won’t stop to explain ourselves. We’ll have too much to do, what with singing and striding and having the wind blowing through our hair. Maybe it really is dinner time now though. Look, the sun’s already setting. Where does the time go?

I mean, really, where does the time go?