"Now she's gone away and I'm alone with a mem'ry of her last lookVague and drawn and sad I see it still, all her heartbreak in that last look"
It's amazing how fast a bottle of wine can go : when you want it to!
When I'm walking home from work, the fact that I'm finished usually lifts my spirits in as much that I'm finished albeit for an evening, a day or a week. The upshot of this lifted (somewhat) mood is that I usually begin an internal monologue. It's a time for reflection and all the best blog posts that never were are composed, are composed and then soon, alas, forgotten.
Imagine that - some blog posts that are actually meaningful and interesting.
Days off now and then nights, but I am pleasantly drunk. That seems to be the only time I feel positive, sadly, that and the evening of impending days off. There is nothing so inspirational in life as potential. Potential often outweighs actuality. The next few days could bring mystery, romance and adventure (they won't) but the possibility is enough to lift ones mood somewhat. Often the imagining of something is better than the something one is imagining, if you see what I mean.
One of the things I miss most about Barbara is talking just before I went to sleep. Back then I went to sleep happy, contented and above all with a sense of purpose. Obviously that is why my insomnia has returned, but happily it is much less of a ferocious beast than it once was (maybe it has a memory). As old Alfie Tennyson so correctly said, better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And I loved...
(ps. - other things I miss are her intelligence, her compassion and wit... It's okay, she's not looking)
(pps. - there are many, many more things I miss).
I could go on... I'm sure I will...
I love this song , I mean love it (although not especially this version), wonderful lyrics and so very very sad...
“It is better to be looked over than overlooked.” - Mae West
(apparently heterosexual men are not supposed to like Tori Amos)
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