There are times when it seems the very ring roads of our souls are as empty and deserted as any early Sunday morning car park that stretches forlornly around the DIY Megastores of our hearts. We wander through our thoughts and dreams like that lone wandering shopping trolley that has been left exposed and alone out far from the comfort of any trolley bay and the safety of the herd as they doze chained together, waiting for the unwary shoppers to attempt to capture one.
We have been here before, holding hands as we stroll along the canal towpath, watching the discarded shopping bags sailing by, blown by a wind that can find no home in the shattered factories and broken down empty warehouses of our lives.
There was a time when all this throbbed with life, with workers, shoppers, all giving the impression that they were going about purposeful lives that were o’er brimmed with meaning and direction.
Now, though, we know that time will pass us by no matter how many electronic gadgets we use to store the minutiae of our moments and fill with appointments that merely pour through our days like sand though hourglasses.
Still, as they say, though… eh… you can’t complain, can you?
No comments:
Post a Comment