they say that when the going gets tough. the tough gets going. and the disclaimer would be. that i never said i was tough. only that i was a fighter. a survivor. who like greek king Midas. lived in supposedly enviable too golden times. of which colours and touch were uncompromisingly convenient at the end of one’s fingertips. two ends of the sanity spectrum. this was a pro-cess that could be terminally profiled as the bermuda triangle that became bizarre. when varied denominations start to diffuse and dis/appear. leaving be. the hind legs of spain. and i.
miss talking without reservations. wearing my heart on my sleeves. with pride. even if it means at the world’s disapproval or disappointment. loving and still being able to feel on top of the world. cant remember when or where. how or why. exactly. from a security guard i became a waiter. and now. a litterbug. many would question maybe even despise my choices of livelihoods. but as a professional survivor. i owed a duty of care not to the many but to just one sole heart and mind. the soul of wellness to the being. my.
hands are small but theyre all i have. and im shedding every colour on them to find a pigment of truth in these uncertain times and unreliable mimes. up against me. faith has never been so fickle. time has never been so loud. routes have never been so uprooting. im giving up the handfull that i was. for every thing that isnt everything. to be in a point of no undivided returns. afterall.
it is but only. love.
current aural of going - How To Save A Life by The Fray.
well, i couldn’t help but notice the little bits of ‘law jargons’ you’ve managed to slip in there. hurhur. hope u enjoyed…
1) your spanish trip ( we dined at the same place at Barca by the beach last year)
2) manchester trip ( and that u didn’t die from preaching the good word of Rafael Benitez)