This, too ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am eating peanuts. I went for a walk, in the very early morning, and managed to read (Zola) while pacing the most familiar mile or two, which was necessary as I really can't get any pleasure from seeing the same 4x4s parked in the same drives, except for at the burned house. There are some differences at dawn. For one, this place does have none-white people. I honestly don't think I've ever seen a single black person in the extended village area, and apparently it is because they only come out at dawn. Possibly before the pavements fill with UKIP campaigners. I dropped off some bottles, to be recycled. Then I went and looked at my late granddad's house, for a bit; I'm not sure why. Then I walked to the park that I've not visited in years. They ripped-up the slide that I fell off, on to concrete, when I was little. They replaced the rickety rope-bridge with a fixed wooden one. I have to tuck-in my feet to use the swings. I made myself feel sick. I walked off down a way I've not been in even longer. More than a decade? Even though it's close by. It doesn't go anywhere that you can't get quicker by another way. It smells of horses, because there are horses there. Lots of them. Then there's girls on bikes, going to look at the horses. Two duckses flew around and around in circles over head. I walked by an old coal shed, or something, half caved in. It has been in the same state of collapse since the 80s, when I somehow managed to have frequent nightmares about what I imagined to live within. Heh. I was scared of a disused shed in the middle of nowhere. A robin sat on a branch riiight next to my head, and chirped at me. Then he hopped along the path in front of me, two hops then a long pause and a look back to see if I was following, then two more hops, and so on and so forth. I have little enough to do that I can afford to follow small birds on their aimless hopping, aye. By that time, I was next to the primary school playing fields, and was thinking about how we used to use that little mound as a sort of redout when playing-out battles in the Zulu wars with assegai spears made of sticks and Boxer-Henry .45 calibre rifles made of...sticks. We were bored children, me and my boring friends whom I never liked. There was a sign telling me to go away or its plural form would call the police, or something. I said, hey, sign, I was here first, I was here when these railings weren't a pointy rusty health hazzard, bitch! And then probably the sign got the last laugh, because here sucks and we neither of us are happy to be there. It because of the way birds had shat on it, I suppose. La Barricade de la Place Blanche Défendue par des Femmes says: Nyowm 3:48 a.m. - 2005-04-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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