The Hills are Alive....I Saw One Moving.
Get Out!Get Out... Out Damned Thought, Out of my Head.
Nothing worse than a repeating thought, a stuck record of monsterous proportions, bouncing like a warped LP.
Or is it more like a series of thoughts, each a small avalanche of negativity that continues to obliterate the cute swiss chalet of my sanity.
I'll pretend I am James Bond at the start of 'The Spy Who Loved Me', I will ski my way out of the trouble that rumbles down the alp behind me.
Perhaps everyone has their own private avalanche waiting to happen.
We tiptoe around it and stifle our sneezes, because at any moment it might swallow us whole.
All hope is not lost though,I have a fantasy that within me there is a St Bernard with a collar mounted brandy keg, a tenacious creature that loves a challange and doesn't feel the cold.
Nothing worse than a repeating thought, a stuck record of monsterous proportions, bouncing like a warped LP.
Or is it more like a series of thoughts, each a small avalanche of negativity that continues to obliterate the cute swiss chalet of my sanity.
I'll pretend I am James Bond at the start of 'The Spy Who Loved Me', I will ski my way out of the trouble that rumbles down the alp behind me.
Perhaps everyone has their own private avalanche waiting to happen.
We tiptoe around it and stifle our sneezes, because at any moment it might swallow us whole.
All hope is not lost though,I have a fantasy that within me there is a St Bernard with a collar mounted brandy keg, a tenacious creature that loves a challange and doesn't feel the cold.
posted by D. at Thursday, January 06, 2005
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