Jottings. By BGZ.
Greetings once again friends, and welcome to another in the series "John's Jottings". You know, there is really no doubt that I will go mad;
The problem we are left with is, what particular form that madness should take? Should I for instance, scream the place down and froth at the mouth, or sit quietly with my head against the wall? Perhaps occasionally humming tuneless snatches from a half-remembered rugby song?
However, before I become completely unhinged, I think I should use the time available to examine the cause of all these outpourings;
To put it in one word:
To begin with, I have the hands of a poet and lover, two requirements not needed for this particular ballgame.
Do any of you readers out there really know what it is like trying to work mechanically with fingers which when they get near a bike, all immediately decide to turn into thumbs?
This brain is not exactly suitable for the task either. I think I told you last time about my flyaway mind. Just imagine me standing at my post and my head thinking:
"Who am I? What is life all about? Why is there air?"
A second later a heavy metal object strikes me forcibly on my toe.
That's not all, only the other night I must have spent the sleeping hours dreaming about Chains.
Because I woke up in the morning with a stiff link.
Well once again time has beaten us and so I say unto you, cheerio: But I'll leave you with this final thought:
If all the worms in the world were laid end to end, so they stretched from here to the moon,
One of them would be bound to wriggle and spoil it all!
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