Thursday Thinking

Today was less weepy than yesterday which is a good thing but it was also a thinking day. A fairly busy day. I took Lucky Luke to an appointment and entered the lair of the age challenged youth workers, visited two government departments, dropped the darling daughter off at her band practice, saxophone practice and an appointment. I was bitterly disappointed to have ti confirmed that the housing people are going to remove the perfectly healthy trees in my front yard because they MAY drop limbs at some stage and the neighbour doesn't own a tin foil hat to protect him from twigs. I am going to lose the shade, the sound of the wind in the leaves, the birds and the bats and saddest of all, the cicadas hibernating beneath the bark of both trees.

I also managed to do paint another piece of art for the 52 week challenge (Eyes)

 

There must be some weird stuff going on inside my head. I like the art of Guilliamo del Toro and the costumes of the cirque de soliel and of course I am a SF fan from way back so I expect they all had an influence on where this piece came from but I don't know exactly why it evolved today. I painted it with water colour and touched it up with gel pens and a little bit of copic marker.

It was a very beautiful day here in Warrnambool. Mostly sunny and a lovely temperature. The neighbour wants to put some sheep in my back yard to eat the grass. I told him he was welcome to do so as my lawn mowers wont be coming for three weeks. I am off to Kyabram for a funeral on Saturday and that has had me in a very thoughtful mood for several days and of course weepy yesterday. Leaves me thinking about how many times we don't say things we should until it is too late.

I wrote a small piece for the mid week blues buster and completed another chapter on my novel. I managed to burn the sausages for dinner though. I should never cook and create at the same time really.

here is my MWBB 2:11 which means it is the prompt for the second year it has been running and the 11th week. The prompt music is

Gary Numan - Here In The Black

302

Absence of light.

In the beginning the absence of light seems the most cruel of punishments.

Some die quickly, some cry out to earless Gods and some more hardy souls survive. For a while. They are unmade and all their hopes are lost, they fade, here in the black.

Up at the top of this city world the verdant foliage of the lungs of the world decorate the skyline and act as the alveoli of the planet, pumping oxygen into the stratosphere, glistening wet in the warmth of the sun, messing with the equilibrium but down here in the foetid bowels deep beneath the lowest layers of infrastructure there is only the black bleak darkness.

Down here is where the human detritus is sent to die. Down here other things lie, in wait.

A blind man would have more time to contemplate his crime and perhaps avoid the bleak future that awaits the fools and criminals sent below but no blindness now exists in the gleaming world above and those who end up here live out their short span of days or hours in perfect fear as what their eyes cannot perceive presses hard against the ear.

Breathe soft lest the things below hear your breath and come for you.

Here in the black.

What is out there who knows but it comes for me.

I hear the whispers, the slithers and groans.

I feel the chill seep into my bones. I want to hide but where could I go?

Here in the black there is nowhere.

I stumble

I kneel

For one stupid moment I pray to the earless heedless gods

Something brushes against my will, against my skin and stillness fills my very being seeping into every pore. The blackness oozes inside me, outside me and it comes and I am no more.