It was 5.16 am and sleep evaded as usual, which meant another exhausted day in the freezing Catalan capital. Such an existence of nervous traveller was accompanied by the return of his demons. And at this window in time, many more fold. Swimming in and out of tortured imagination.
Another hotel room, more unfamiliar surroundings, a city where the sirens of a stretched emergency service were as clarion calls, heralding another life beginning or …ebbing away….
And so how would today be dealt with….a more gentle promenade was required, a little self care of his systems, which he felt sure had begun to fail…..now a half century had come and gone.
Way below the hotel room, the muted rumble of underground trains were an almost soothing metronome, timing their beat to his heavy heart. Their pulse his pulse.
Share and share alike.
Something for something.
Quid pro quo.
Strangely the previous evening, a wave of loneliness had washed over his being as he went from café to bar to café exploring and searching for one of those Latinas who flicked a pony tail of wisdom at the world………
Sunday, January 18
Monday, January 12
Sunday, January 11
nervous traveller....in barcelona....
In soft gleaming night of stars,
May all your dreams come true.
May every star of every night,
Bring love and joy to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Tuesday, January 6
Por Un Segundo
Quizás este no sea el momento para preguntarte
Si es que al pasar tanto tiempo,
pudiste olvidarme?!
Si es que al pasar tanto tiempo,
pudiste olvidarme?!
Sunday, January 4
Friday, December 26
Wednesday, December 24
Merry Christmas
Hypothetical Hobnail
I have been crunching around on invisible emotions …..a compañero recently complained by way of reddening countenance.
Sorry W, I won’t be horrible to your team ever again.
But the chewing gum of guilt remains stuck on my shoe sole…providing unwanted extra adhesion on this islands streets to nowhere, only slightly melted by the opinion of an ever shining sun…way overhead in our Fuerteventura mid-winter,
Where I met an argument on a zephyr…
“I’m never coming on holiday with you again” wailed the rotund female sporting a northern accent and angry disposition……….her silver haired male companion remained silent, a look of grim resignation coursing along the lines of his tired expression… a hoped for handsome becoming wrinkled and ugly.
I almost expected a string section to be playing in the background ….evening dress and ball gowns…duelling with double bass……plucking harp in another fantasy for the disenfranchised, the unconnected.
But there was no music, just the bile of anger and sorrow.
It was around the next corner I encountered a festive season …..Whether I wanted it….or not.
Deck the boughs with jingle bells or something like that, Santa in sunglasses. I like it for the little ones, to see the excited little faces is heart warming, but I still remember the time when I discovered that Papa Noel was maybe not as real as I thought.
Was it this life’s first major disappointment? Might have been, maybe still is.
And so to the New Year and its resolutions. Must be more aware of others sensitivities.
Will I get some softer shoes in my Christmas stocking? Bin the hobnails.
Even if they are only hypothetical.
Seasons Greetings.
SB.
I have been crunching around on invisible emotions …..a compañero recently complained by way of reddening countenance.
Sorry W, I won’t be horrible to your team ever again.
But the chewing gum of guilt remains stuck on my shoe sole…providing unwanted extra adhesion on this islands streets to nowhere, only slightly melted by the opinion of an ever shining sun…way overhead in our Fuerteventura mid-winter,
Where I met an argument on a zephyr…
“I’m never coming on holiday with you again” wailed the rotund female sporting a northern accent and angry disposition……….her silver haired male companion remained silent, a look of grim resignation coursing along the lines of his tired expression… a hoped for handsome becoming wrinkled and ugly.
I almost expected a string section to be playing in the background ….evening dress and ball gowns…duelling with double bass……plucking harp in another fantasy for the disenfranchised, the unconnected.
But there was no music, just the bile of anger and sorrow.
It was around the next corner I encountered a festive season …..Whether I wanted it….or not.
Deck the boughs with jingle bells or something like that, Santa in sunglasses. I like it for the little ones, to see the excited little faces is heart warming, but I still remember the time when I discovered that Papa Noel was maybe not as real as I thought.
Was it this life’s first major disappointment? Might have been, maybe still is.
And so to the New Year and its resolutions. Must be more aware of others sensitivities.
Will I get some softer shoes in my Christmas stocking? Bin the hobnails.
Even if they are only hypothetical.
Seasons Greetings.
SB.
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