offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
Sleep has become a stranger but I am more accepting of my flaws. The weeks don't seem to last as long as they used to, it's almost as though Monday follows Monday. I am trying to reconnect with old friends but beginning to realise that I don't have as many as I used to. Maybe that's something that comes with getting older. The heat is stifling and I dream of snow drifts. Too much time is spent wondering 'what if' and not enough time spent being 'pro-active' - whatever that means. I blame the heat. Music and wine seem to provide my only solace. Let's hope I can rest these weary eyes.
offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
How do you make sense of things?

I don't.

The idea of trying to make sense of everything is infinitely vast. The void that can never be filled. I attempt to make sense of the things I can but I really believe that the truth is this; 'not much makes any sense'. A lot of what we perceive is nothing more than coincidences and random happenings that resolve in the 'here and now'. However, this is not to say that lessons can not be learned and that there is not room for progression. Maybe the random production of events is all part of a planned outcome.

Who is to say?


Dec. 31st, 2013 08:30 pm
offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
So maybe I will move to an old abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and spend my time reading old books and take up a hobby like restoring antique furniture or painting. For company, I would raise chickens and pigs and I might keep a couple of cows further out field. Nights would be spent stargazing and drinking whiskey whilst remaining convinced that the bedroom at the end of the hallway was haunted. I would find the idea of a haunted room quite humbling as long as it was a peaceful spirit with a sense of humour. Summers would be long and humid but only during the daytime; I would drink home-made lemonade and cycle around the country. There would be orchards and cornfields to explore and when autumn brings its chill, I would wear large jumpers and cardigans and take the dogs for long walks. I'd convert the basement into a small wine cellar and keep candles in every room. There will be a large bookcase in the dining room (and yes this is a LARGE abandoned farmhouse), Kerouac, Rimbaud, Salinger and Burroughs would grace the shelves and there will always be music playing in every room. A rickety, old upright piano will live in the corner and the floors would be lined with large, detailed Persian rugs. The kitchen would be the heart of the house the smell of baked food would drift through each room inviting guests towards the welcoming centre. And there would be love; two strong arms that wrap around and offer up nothing but acceptance and longing. Two heartbeats and one rhythm. Two minds and one communion.


offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
Not an Oracle

January 2016


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