a beautiful revolution: blog

The things you cannot see

I wait for the night. I cannot write during the day. The sunlight encourages me to do other things: I waste my life during the day. But during the night, I write. 

It's been a while since I last wrote to you, my virtual friends, hasn't it? Sorry. I just haven't been able to find the words. In fact, I'm still struggling to find them now.

Perhaps I should start this post again - begin it with the first line of a song that touches me, and see where we go...

"You got me off the sofa, just sprang out of the air. The best things come from nowhere, I can't believe you care..."

My blog is three today. I met a girl that made me smile. Nothing more - just a simple smile. It's been over a year since I last shed a tear on a therapist's couch. Today I saw a fox. I smiled at it and thought of you. The best things come from nowhere. I love it when you swoon. I am having the time of my life.

A Little White Box

Crush (ed)

I have spent the last few days desperately trying to drown a tiny tiny crush in a bucket of red wine. But the bloody thing seems to have ninety-seven lives - because every time I pull him from the bucket, finally convinced of his death, melancholy pop songs wafted across the air and the bugger starts breathing again.

Yes, yes, I know you are all slightly aghast at my seemingly harsh manner. That he is only a crush - just a tiny tiny crime of the heart committed by fool. But the bastard has to die. I cannot carry him in my pocket a moment longer, hoping for a change of heart.  And so I type this post to you with a tear in my eye, a box of tissues by my side, and a tiny tiny crush drowning in a bucket of red wine.

R.I.P. sweet tiny tiny crush of mine.

I shall truly miss you.

xxxx