She keeps 'delivering' almost as if by wonky magic.
the other job.... only because the actual job nowadays seems the end of it.
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plus - maybe the definition of 'poignant' is that there needs to be some time passing before an image that sums up absolutely everything for over a decade, she saw my "Whatsup luv" image and if she knew I never send images on any app luv...
"peace.... i noticed how you loved these... " but a poignancy needs time
To become the past as yet another will.
When sadly she, they...were about the only hope left for some rural yokels with money from afar gatherating as friends for mutual aid, never mind aiding the land to be a little more Gaia, and attitudes from afar, in other words not lost bullneck attitudes from here, which is simply nowadays idiot Bannonish attitudes from so far away they may as well be another planet, and when ....is it she or they? cannot tale one line of gentle sardonese, there is no hope, nor ever more any peace, nor ever more any mutual benefit small person mucking in together on.... her land.
SO i better find my actually past pictures of much heaps. Because there is no more poignant a series that that one a few years ago.
When 'mental health' mine is fine thank you very much and always is fine, thank you very much and even tested as fine thank you very much die long ago image sharing... the true image... every conversation in YUK even with the superb young man yesteraft (when my friend was meant to be in his place) they all stick in ' my mental health issues..' when i have never met a man of 23 so clearly with a superb mind of his own and much hard work on real scholarship, reading propper books ... because he wishes to figure the world, real society...real Wastelands...and speaks so finely about them...
There is no hope. A whole people absolutely lost to the self pitying look at me, i have issues.... as the 4 year old quizzed his mother three years ago just close to here "mummy what are the issues ...?" And mummy and i look at each other and i do not ever look at those yummiest beauties, and mummy and I ... well she was worth spending an hour discussing the state of the world...
Despite 'working' in child services, " he seems to understand.... be in touch with the actual wisdom of the universe, and even in the way the little ones put things get straight to the point.... if everyone says they have issues all the time surely it all cancels itself out and is just a norm and this no point speaking about 'issues''... never mind it being so boring.."
And i do not speak with Les Grandes Belazzas.... well there was one once.
which is more than some link, some mood music...
Tiz the tone...
To fully enjoy this material now in at least two d never mind three, you have to have at least some good music in your ears... that has the rhythm; the pace, and above all... the spirit. Because though i may only, and i mean only like to spend my time sleeping in a log cabin all winter and doing what nature intended, sleeping a lot in the winter.... and in the day finding a sunny trap where you can stave off the bugs as one always can even mid winter bathe in the light and find the warmth...
There is so much 'movement' within these pages it is daft but can i somehow get that 'movement' into some dead pages on the interweb of lies and deceit... none of which will be found here because everything, has behind it a chronicle, that i know when i am long gone...will be pored through as who we actually were....
And there always was only one star.
SO back to a... more than 'happy' time. Essential for life to continue. We must go through death.
Then
Now - which does not look very poignant never mind a well hung line...
But what behind the airing holey curtain, is what it is really about.... though we will have to move away to ever mention whom or why....
BUT they are never important, never... though would think they somehow were. Not many could appreciate the serene perfection of La Grande Belazza even if meself i don't do nightlife, nor Italy... for years...for good reasons. But great art with something real to say about the dilettantism of his own type, so gorgeously, must never be judged as for any 'other'
But i run ahead of myself.
Now
Poignancy as it is only part of five years a theme..'studied'
And simplify - everything must be gone. Only the mind, and memory.
And memory of what not one of the dilettante, even Mrs Baby Fig... will stop and smell....
Having as i have in days gone yore - a lifetime ago, (and NO inherited money ever - except my then employers) even lived in The Caron Cannes, and other European fancy spas.... though myself i wandered out to find the real people - generally the hookers splayed over fancy motor bonnets in the back alley behind, or real life - wandering the foothills off any track, in the hills nearby...
I know one thing.
Only.
That aromas, and life itself, bizarrely, how can one understand, are so central, but there is one aroma that no money can buy, and now town or cityfolk could even know of exiting. And only one aroma one would ever wish to share or 'buy' for someone valued... purpose, and 'valuing' someone being far more real than mere 'love' ...
If i had all the money in the world i would spend it on getting out into the wilds and doing what is free. Airing one's bedding or pillowcase in the fresh air which is still available for free... and wish that just one person knew ....
That it really is better than anything mere wo/man can ..'make'
Is paradise... the only smell that matches that of a younguns hair... and cannot be bought. Or sold....
As of course is the same with her gift - a latently poignant picture, i know she will never again come forward...
and she knows they were bought for her....
because she knows i noticed...
her appreciation for s simple 'luxury' quite inexpensive actually
because we both know i have the key to her 'mental health' ...
