R&R

It is difficult to write with so many ideas and emotions swirling in a haze of confusion. Much has been accomplished - still more is yet to come after what has been left behind. The path before continues to a crossroads but beyond that one can only hazard a wild guess. I think faster than I am able to write, hence the apparent incoherence in my stream of thought. This week has seen several events, more than I can care to remember. As I search for a new home for next year I muse over whether 'next year' itself will ever become a reality. Summer has crept up like an unexpected guest, welcome but unprepared. Indeed, unprepared is the crux of the matter, ladies and gentlemen. Alas, the end is precipitously near, and, whatever lies ahead certainly does not lie easily with the uncertain unease I feel right now.
As to more mundane minutiae: 'suffering' seems to be the order of the day and, accordingly, one attempts valiantly to deny oneself simple pleasures like ice-cream, parties and movies in the company of one's friends.
"O, puritan, cast off thy grey mantle of dread and rejoin the living!"
"Nay, tempter - drop thy snares and stay thy deceitful slurs of envy."

Fail me not, for I have been faithful.
Erk. Now get me an aspirin, quick.

I feel you feel her. She feels. We feel you (pl.) feel them. Keep feeling; before too long this charade will fail as all things must. Feel clean.

Goodness me, look at the time. Mr Monkhouse seeks company with Champe & Harvey...

JH