The slightly interesting thing about the pits is that when you think you’ve landed, bum first, on rock bottom… there’s always scope for a further downward spiral.
In fact, being too geographically challenged to be specific, I’m sometimes surprised how my behind doesn’t crop up at the other end of the world… The Earth being round and all I would assume that’s a logical fear (?).
Not particularly plagued by anything more serious than consistent inertia I wonder if others would find some joy in my predicament.
Would I chuckle if someone fell down?
What if the person concerned giggled to find himself on the floor?
I’m grumpy after a day of the Romantics.
Two full years and my mind still growls uncomprehendingly when I try and understand their philosophy.
What is the OBSESSION with Imagination anyway?
Writing poetry about it.
Writing prose to explain aforementioned poetry.
Writing criticism on other works of poetry and prose to compare and contrast own opinion.
Wordsworth, if I may politely ask you, wtf?
Coleridge you are better but not much!
Blake… ‘Tyger’ really??? REALLY?
*fake cries*
*wants expensive movie watching experience and not-too-tasty popcorn*
NOW!
Ps- Rather than pasting a picture of dirty ground pits (which also popped up a picture of person A's (arm)pits being licked by person B. yuck!.. google..too-much-information!)... I've pasted a picture that makes me feel a sense of peace that I want... as opposed to feeling pit-ty.
Also.. that's not a thin slice of onion .. it's the Sombrero Galaxy... also known as M 104
remember you read it Here first... unless you're an astronomer and this is a very blah-usual-filter-coffee moment for you.
Cheers.
