Take me back...
Jul. 25th, 2019 01:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootTo a field somewhere bright, full of friends just lying around listening to music or walking from one stage to another, maybe shopping for a t-shirt/bandana/temporary tattoo.
It might be lotus-eating, I don't care. It was over too quickly.
I can't reach mum on her phone, reckon it means something is wrong, the up cycle is over; she'll have panicked and done something, taken the sim card out, removed the batteries, I don't know. I wish I wish I wish this wasn't a part of our lives.
Yes, a little down. Though the exhibition on writing at the British Library was awesome, made more so by the mighty air conditioning. Beautiful Lindisfarne gospels, notes in red pencil by James Joyce, in black by Mozart, the cramped but clear diaries of Florence Nightingale, the faded poignancy of Scott's last words.
Still. I want that field again.
Reading that back, if I cut out the fourth paragraph and insert something about whisky and the south, I basically become an entire rock genre.
It might be lotus-eating, I don't care. It was over too quickly.
I can't reach mum on her phone, reckon it means something is wrong, the up cycle is over; she'll have panicked and done something, taken the sim card out, removed the batteries, I don't know. I wish I wish I wish this wasn't a part of our lives.
Yes, a little down. Though the exhibition on writing at the British Library was awesome, made more so by the mighty air conditioning. Beautiful Lindisfarne gospels, notes in red pencil by James Joyce, in black by Mozart, the cramped but clear diaries of Florence Nightingale, the faded poignancy of Scott's last words.
Still. I want that field again.
Reading that back, if I cut out the fourth paragraph and insert something about whisky and the south, I basically become an entire rock genre.
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