The finer things in life. Not products, moments; sat on a shitty little beach towel, sand blowing in your sausage rolls and self deprecation, deprecation in general. These things happen and everything's pretty much alright. You find an afternoon, a day go by without thinking of the crap that isn't in front of you. Weekends can be the best days of my life.
Then it's back to the bleak days and it's all back. I need the weekend to redeem my soul, and the daily grind just takes me back to where I started. What's the point in all this redemption if it's gone when I get back to the day-to-day? There isn't a point. None of it is particulalry pointful. Sometimes sat on a beach, or being with friends and laughing can make it all clear for a moment, but the majority of time is spent wondering why those times are the exception.
The quality of the sand... The firmness of the ground... Imported sand and deported ground... From beneath my feet.
Sq.
2 comments:
You spelt "particularly" wrong. But what does it matter?
I only just read this. It is a typo. There are a few of them knocking about on here, I usually can't be bothered to go back and change them.
It doesn't matter.
Post a Comment