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While it still is. That is, another few amounts of 30 days or so. It's all the same really.

I could see it in her eyes. The red and the rest. Couldn't bear it. You can live for a lifetime but still never be able to get over it. The red and the rest and the words that tell you it's all just a short amount of time. I promised her that it would never happen again and I will try my hardest to keep that promise. Some things just are.

But all those lights. We descended and I saw about a second of lit building-tops. That's somewhat not enough - not being greedy or anything. The sounds from one end of the head to the other is the natural progression of things. That's what I've learnt. The Babylon you learnt of is a book of yellowed pages and an unknown writer.

Not until you saw remnants of it that you began to make sure that every breath was breathed. Hell, I promised her that it would never happen again and I will try my hardest to keep that promise.

Altogether Now...

Something about the hall of mirrors or rather, nothing much. But the city had never been as quiet as one could have imagined. A city night with a single light. Isn’t that just one of the many things? And here we go again…

It’s not a lot more than what’s already at hand. Try to subvert it as much as possible and hope that it’ll come through somewhat. And if all of it were like that, then we’d be done long ago. Which way did they take if they’re all still here right now? But maybe we’re taking the wrong approach.

Someone talked about the current situation over cups of coffee and tea and cold water (attributed to a sense of good memory). Someone tried to lie their way out of knowing. Someone didn’t do what they used to do anymore but what does that matter? And someone remembered the day, the name, the haze.

The next part is thinking. For all the length of lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, listening to the repetitions of “why don’t you get back into bed?” (Ian Dury, no less). The papers yesterday said that’s the disease we’ll all die from, apparently. Thinking. So we shift our focus from that. To the less sordid. To them telling me, “And your bird can sing” or something along the lines of. Nah, that’s blatant enough as it is. How about a last-minute note that smacked of the self-justification of a…and so it goes. Yes, let’s turn our attention to that instead. But what happened to them? Died their deaths before they were done. The papers today said that’s the disease we’ll all die from, apparently. Living.

And what else will the papers say?
Let’s take it from the top.