Broken Machine

Have I made my fondness for melodrama perfectly clear? If it’s news to you, take heed, because I know very well that this too shall pass. I felt broken after the weekend. Like the machine had ground to a halt and refused to respond to encouragement or threats - at the mercy of, so to speak.

What’s remarkable – what astounds me – is the capacity we each of us have to really fuck each other over, and without the least intention of so doing. No intention, no inclination, not even an inkling of the consequences outside our bubble of existence.

I saw you walk away.

A rock thrown into a pond; the ripples take time to subside. Recognising the fragility of you goes some way towards restoring the calm.

So let's not do this anymore, huh? While I am the original flogger of dead horses, some anguish just ain't worth it.