I thought I'd take the opportunity with a combination of insomnia and insanity to write down whatever I'd feel like writing. It's supposed to sooth the soul and bring out our deepest and sometimes darkest character. I'm interested to see if my good side comes out.
In my garden I know I have a fence. This fence represents a boundary both physically and mentally. It's quite a nice fence and it's painted lots of different colours, as if Jason Donovan had been strung up on it several times. Or at least enough to cover the surface area of the fence which can be seen from inside the house.
Sometimes people break into my garden through this fence because I've failed to maintain it well enough. Sometimes I do let them in though for a nice chat and a bit of tea. I take note very well of what they want because it can make all the difference. It's all about first impressions these days. If they knock over my Bonzai's I'm not too impressed because it takes a lot of dedication and love to make them grow into lovely little trees. They're not like those lazy, big oafish oaks in the corner hogging all the sun, and grumbling because it's "windy today". It's windy most of the time- your job is to block the wind out.
People that break into my garden are really quite nice people underneath. Occasionally one will be a bit rude and I have to decide whether they should be allowed to stay in my house or not. If they are, I keep my eye on them by cutting eyeholes in my newspaper and staring through the Financial Times at them over breakfast. They seem alright after that and desperately willing never to try and push my hospitality further than it can go. It's a new experience for me. If I decide they shouldn't stay, I make sure they have a safe passage back home, because I am nice like that and don't want to see more than one person hurt today. It gets boring after a while.
So I open my conservatory window and climb out because as always, I will lose the key. I know where it is, but I know full well them burglars have more than likely stolen it to get in at their leisure at a later date. You must be careful of the patio chairs and dining table on the way out though. They've got a bit rusty from all the horrible English weather and the last thing you want to be catching is blood poisoning. I get up on the fence and sit there. It's a very thin fence, and it's not very comfortable. I need a pillow or a cushion to make my life that bit more humble. I can see them on the sofa through the back window, but I never have the time, dedication or effort to jump down either way and grab one. I'm hoping I don't fall down off the fence onto next door's Begonia. Everybody knows they look and smell nice, but not when they've been squashed. It wasn't even me that did that. I did run over a Christmas tree once though. It wasn't even fucking Christmas.
You could say those bastards that broke in did it, trampling all over that lovely Begonia. It was so good before, but I think it's developed thorns now, and that's not child-friendly at all. I'm contemplating taking the initiative and cutting down the plant in its entirety, but I know that it'll take time to decide even though everyone says it's perfectly fine to do so. I'm not going to pull it up unless I know it'll be OK there in that patch after. I did find weeds. Lots of em. So I've got rid of those, because everybody hates a leech.
In my garden I know I have a fence. This fence represents a boundary both physically and mentally. It's quite a nice fence and it's painted lots of different colours, as if Jason Donovan had been strung up on it several times. Or at least enough to cover the surface area of the fence which can be seen from inside the house.
Sometimes people break into my garden through this fence because I've failed to maintain it well enough. Sometimes I do let them in though for a nice chat and a bit of tea. I take note very well of what they want because it can make all the difference. It's all about first impressions these days. If they knock over my Bonzai's I'm not too impressed because it takes a lot of dedication and love to make them grow into lovely little trees. They're not like those lazy, big oafish oaks in the corner hogging all the sun, and grumbling because it's "windy today". It's windy most of the time- your job is to block the wind out.
People that break into my garden are really quite nice people underneath. Occasionally one will be a bit rude and I have to decide whether they should be allowed to stay in my house or not. If they are, I keep my eye on them by cutting eyeholes in my newspaper and staring through the Financial Times at them over breakfast. They seem alright after that and desperately willing never to try and push my hospitality further than it can go. It's a new experience for me. If I decide they shouldn't stay, I make sure they have a safe passage back home, because I am nice like that and don't want to see more than one person hurt today. It gets boring after a while.
So I open my conservatory window and climb out because as always, I will lose the key. I know where it is, but I know full well them burglars have more than likely stolen it to get in at their leisure at a later date. You must be careful of the patio chairs and dining table on the way out though. They've got a bit rusty from all the horrible English weather and the last thing you want to be catching is blood poisoning. I get up on the fence and sit there. It's a very thin fence, and it's not very comfortable. I need a pillow or a cushion to make my life that bit more humble. I can see them on the sofa through the back window, but I never have the time, dedication or effort to jump down either way and grab one. I'm hoping I don't fall down off the fence onto next door's Begonia. Everybody knows they look and smell nice, but not when they've been squashed. It wasn't even me that did that. I did run over a Christmas tree once though. It wasn't even fucking Christmas.
You could say those bastards that broke in did it, trampling all over that lovely Begonia. It was so good before, but I think it's developed thorns now, and that's not child-friendly at all. I'm contemplating taking the initiative and cutting down the plant in its entirety, but I know that it'll take time to decide even though everyone says it's perfectly fine to do so. I'm not going to pull it up unless I know it'll be OK there in that patch after. I did find weeds. Lots of em. So I've got rid of those, because everybody hates a leech.
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