
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Tuesday, May 08, 2018
Grass
The grass is growing, waving and pointing, circulating like some crazy ocean we can leave footsteps on the surface despite the constant threat of wet feet and sinking. Life support system. It's a green machine, it's a carpet and another world. It has a magnificence about it, a depth but it will be cropped back and into order today (I suspect). Humiliation for the grass.
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