I was struck by the cheek of the marketing industry today while in the shower. I saw their shameless attempt to double the profits of the shampoo maker displayed on the bottle instructing idiots how to use the product: at the end of the instructions on how to shampoo your hair was.......
The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
I've ranted against it. I've been scornful and sarcastic about it. I've belittled it's usefulness and rejected potential benefits but finally I've succumbed and joined the masses.
Some younger family members seem only capable of communicating this way.
I'm not proud of myself.
I'm now on face-pest.
It's not a duplication of the blog, although some posts might also appear there too. It's a personal page - just me,.family, some friends and a few friends of friends. It's relaxed, comfy and a bit less pc than here. I've even got my photo on there. It's not a public site. That I'm not ready for.
If you're on facebook and would like to drop me a request please feel free.
We’ve known each other for a long time and though I’ve changed over time the years have never touched you the way they have me. You are still…..well the word that comes first to mind is beautiful: definitely beautiful. Some might not agree but you are beautiful. You always will be. You’re much older than me but you look amazing, even after all these years. I love the shape of each perfect limb and the strength in you. You move with such grace, such gentleness and yet you have a wildness to you, a need to be free. You dance as if to the most beautiful music: to the song of the sea wind.
I know your skin isn’t the way it was when you were young. That doesn’t matter. I love the feel of you in my hand, the way you sometimes shiver if I touch you or sigh softly when I’m close and the way I’m always aware of your presence when I’m near you. I love your aloofness, your lofty disdain for the insignificant things that worry me. I love the way you speak. You say nothing and I hear you inside. You whisper and I have to stop whatever I’m doing to catch what you are trying to say. I love our moments together, a sunny afternoon or shared autumn evening in the cool of the garden. Sometimes I just have to sit beside you. It calms me just to be near.
I love the things you give. They're precious to me no matter how often – or rarely – you might be able to part with them. I’ve tried to take good care of you over the years but I’m awkward at times. I’ve never been confident that way. You understand – don't you. You’ve been so forgiving. I don’t spend as much time with you as I should but you’re always there and that makes me happy. I smile each and every time I see you. I look forward to coming back to you again. I can't imagine being without you.
More than that: I think a wee bit of me loves you.
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.
They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
