All I need.


The need in me is to create.  What?

Anything – it is all up for debate.

I’ve been away far too long from my usual stream of conscious ramblings.

Doing important, official  work in the real world. I don’t mind but my urge to write  ding dongs in my head like Big Ben , pinching  at my nerves like little crablings.

Walk sideways, it’s fun .I don’t mind.  To not feel able to put thought to paper is  a pain that  lunges at me with pincers.

Threatens to cut, alter my composite  chemistry that aids my synapses to   hop from one tufty  cloud to the next .

I’ve fallen off this heady tuft of higher ground.  Landed in a dank, damp, dark marshy bog – I look around  me and I see my only flight back home is sinking in the mud.

Oh, see how much I have wept.

 Humpty dumpty  had a far  easier break. I’m  burning up – I’m spilling out my innards from every orifice. I’m burning  up  a fever, tactile sensations- uncomfortably  scrambled.

If I could just sit up and inhale a breath. I’m tired.

 Tired.

I am sick of heading for the routine spine bash.  

Dreary Dystopic  drones in uniform hedge all around me.

I know I am ambushed. 

Spare this loaf. Save some for later . Don’t be Greedy.

We all need some form of energy to buzz us into a land of fantasy. 

 This existence is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Necessary to be a part of, I agree .

I need to chill-out.  Don’t you see?

I have to have an outlet – that allows me to just, Let me be me!

I promise I won’t hide from my civic duty. You don’t need to contain me  in a fryer with other slices of chips off the old block.

I am patriotic.

I understand my need to be part of the solution.

Eyes rise up  to the skies- Pink tufts, hues colour me in , a chance for wizardry to occur. I promise I  won’t become unwell again .

 I won’t lose myself entirely that I become an invalid to humanities true cause. Resolve for my Absolution!

Before you take that roller pin to my head. I’m already malleable  – ready to rise . See how  blanched I am –  covered in fine ,white, earthly grounded  flour.

See, look!  Pat me down.

Check my left pocket. 

A quill.

Check my right pocket. 

ink .

Together I can re write this story – or create a captivating ending for everyone – I can whisk you away from a life  so dour and sour. 

Temporarily of course. Just for a fleeting moment – I can change your wooden hearts and make them beat again.

Feel, breathe.

You can be Lucida.

Fetch me that parchment – just by that oak tree. Three combined ingredients are all that we need.

No dark spells. My  intentions are pure.

My need is  to make you see an alternative  style of Living – a  tiny bit clearer.

Imagination does get rusty when we don’t use it.

We can use some of  that oil from the this-worldly  fryer to lubricate , intoxicate. 

Envision any place you want to go that feeds into your happiness

How do you want me to start?  

Once upon a  time, we abandoned our  traditional milieu  to head to a place, where we all could  flex our buns in a manner of  straight out wackiness. 

I have my cure!

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spinebash

[spahyn-bash]

verb (used without object), Australian Slang.

1.

to rest; loaf.

DICTIONARY.COM

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