The end is the beginning is the end
My shoulders throttle from the workload done in the previous evening's kitchen parade, and my stomach suffers from all of its endeavours. Today was as calm as a printed blue sky. I guess my life now revolves around dealing with the aftermath of the Rabbit Soiree, so work becomes my querida , and my mobile phone becomes the only source of my emotional bacchus, beholden to it now as I was then to the tether I once attached to the woman who now proudly flaunts having had betrayed me. It has been a few weeks since then... the day my life stood still amongst great circumstances. And in these new circumstances offer new potential and even greater risk of losing it all again to an ecstasy of cyclical patterns, most of which have already presented itself to me in my previous encounters. Getting older has its boons. You live and let live and you learn. I am become truth, and to others I can now provide inspiration, or a warning, or everything else in between, for I have had my fill of happi