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King Snail and Other Silly Thoughts

I had this line in my head.  ‘I want to get to the heart of how you feel.’  Couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Didn’t know what to do with it.  If I played an instrument, I might’ve used it in a song.  Written it, recorded it, played it to an audience who all spontaneously burst into tears because it was so damn beautiful.  Wouldn’t need to shower when I got off stage.  Cleansed by all the people who love me.    Maybe I’ll use the line one day.   Put my arm around somebody’s shoulder or hold their hand and I say that line with so much compassion that they do open up.  Didn’t even need to sing it.  Maybe it’ll remind me of this moment as the rain pitter-patters on the cabin roof.   

 

Today the rain is a blessing,

yesterday the rain was a curse,

the weather can wallop a wallet,

or pickpocket a pretty old purse.

 

A snail travelled over my shoe last night.  It left a slimy trail.  I gave that snail a round of applause.  A rapturous round of applause.  I might have even whoop-whooped it.  Now that snail is the king of all of his snail mates.  He’s the boss snail.  Free drinks for him all night.  All his snail mates want to be the boss snail.  Tomorrow morning, I’ll find that everything I’ve ever owned has been slithered over and slimed.  A truly heroic night of snail travel will take place tonight.  Like the first man to reach the north pole.  Tonight will go down in snail history. 

 

Here he comes! 

Jesus of the snails!

Michelangelo of the snails!

Neil Armstrong of the snails!

Hail, King Snail!

 

Still trying to work out what I’m going to do in August, what I want to get from it.  I’m taking a sabbatical. The whole month off.  I might go travelling.  Do I like travelling?  Well, you don’t really like travelling.  You like writing.  Well, why don’t you write?   But I won’t meet new people if I spend the whole month writing.  You could write, then meet people, then writing about meeting those people.  Yes, I could do that.  What do you want to do?  What do you really really really want to do?  I don’t know.  Well, if you don’t know, I don’t know.  That’s helpful, thank you.  I’m going to think of a big crazy magical surreal idea and do that and then everyone will call me Tom the Decisive and Exceptionally Crazy Magical Surreal and also Talented One and I will swagger into every room with King Snail on my shoulder.  I can hear my Wikipedia page being written as we speak.  But now I must go to bed. 

A creep,  

A creep,

A creep,

Then a slow and steady descent into deep, deep sleep. 

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