To Buy:

- Unsweetened Almond Milk 

- Free Range Eggs

- Turkey

To-Do:

- Call Jeff

- Send Christmas cards

- Tell people about writing

The greatest fears don't fully climax, don't fully peak, until they're happening, until they become unalterable, until they're set in stone, with you attempting to chip said stone with nothing more than your bloody nails. You wish you could give your weathered, starvation-esque digits recovery time, and grind with your mouth instead, until you realise your teeth fell out decades long gone. 

When you can longer mold, when you can no longer bend the edges, when you can no longer press the clay of a pot of your own...this is when the fear sets in. Who cares for it now? Who inadvertently cares for you now? Your symbiotic lifestyle, the water buffalo and the oxpecker, legumes and rhizobia, man and child - it has evolved. For you survival of the fittest has cast aside your once so wise words, your offspring reaching reproductive age, still making mistakes, still crying, still weeping for someone to help. But no - they're too old for that now, and with that they put down the phone, they erase the 11 digits they had managed to engrave upon their brain, in case of emergencies, in case of non-emergencies, repressing it, or suppressing it? 

You wait for the call that never comes. The nurses lie to spare you, to spare striking your emotions out, to spare you from the human emotional gutter. They avoid the touchy subject that used to be my only subject.   

Despite all of this, your fear has not reached its climax, has not reached its peak, it has merely effervesced at a threshold, gently and complacently sending a bubbles over the line, until the monotone track of popping bubbles becomes too much to bare. 

From this you spring to action - you remember 11 digits, a different 11 digits, those you'd never forget as they maintain you, they're your lifeline. One by one you punch numbers in, pausing for breath upon the second ring. With bated tears, bated hope, you had thrown a bait line to catch a human. The cast away has cast a line.

Here, right here, is where your fear has reached its climax, it has reached its peak, as you've taken the steps forward and away from your fear. Its done a U-turn however, you can hear it behind you, the audio it produces replaces the bubble popping torment you had grown accustomed too. It's now just the sound of ringing, and this ringing will never pop. For me, this ringing will never stop. For you? Make the call.

Lust is love. 

Love for immediate affection,

No thought-out,

No drawn-out,

Sustained connection,

Sustained reflection,

Especially past the deed,

You came here to do,

Between you and your object of desire.

You can lust for anything,

An inherent sexual connotation,

Gives it a bad reputation,

As solid a defence in court as the Twinkie rebuttal,

Lust knows no bounds,

Lust only seeks instant gratification,

Creating patients lacking any patience.

Blood, sweat and tears dragging their feet for years,

Soul worn thin,

Thin mints ain't enough to remove the stink,

The stench,

The contempt,

Contempt of St. Peter's court,

Courting the rich and heinous,

Sporting a new Yeezy line,

Yet crossing it,

Criss-crossing it,

Hop-scotching it,

Play fair and square,

'Cheat' exclaim those badged with defeat,

Knife in the back,

They all fall down.

Taking me as a joker,

Crowned me the king of comedy,

Crowned me the king of 'somethings wrong with me',

Ducking responsibilities by clowning about,

I'm now the rich and heinous, 

Favours in the form of shout-outs,

"No? What if I put out?"

Considering no longer resting,

Now detesting my former morals,

Resting within an internal quarrel,

Over whether superficiality is everyones speciality,

Feeling disconnected from technological reality,

Reality of distractions finally losing traction,

Grinding to a halt,

Hitting the grindstone with your null-blade,

Huh,

It's well-played I guess,

You're still the technological barmy army,

Stepping in line to rearm me.

'Wand' implies direction,

Committal,

Submittal,

Decision lacking revision,

Content set in stone,

Before setting fonts yet.

I answer questionably,

One spell?

One crafted from many,

One can be shafted,

One easily departed from memory.

Minds may be magical,

But words do not capture,

Will never capture,

Spells in their entirety.