Thursday, 26 March 2015

Being Us

Lazily we pushed forward without a reason but with a rhyme. We never fully reconciled that Creg was a part of who we were inside. Every time we laughed and joked at his expense, we cried inside as recompense. His woes were our woes, and his fears were shared. His feelings were incinerated so ours could be spared. Every word was abreaction on tear stained note pads. No one could claim to be as gloomy and cynical as us two young lads.

A year ago this month I was in a hotel in New South Wales, James messaged me and said it was time again to tell tall tales.  For four years we'd waited and quietly stewed, bottling it up until it all came unglued - into 12 months of misery and 12 months of regret, week by week we'd served it up for the universe to neglect.

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