Sunday, 8 March 2015
The Patch of Rust Grows Bigger Year by Year
To know what's coming: the emptiness, the desperation, the heart rending loneliness - and yet to push on. To make the most of what we can with what we have and what little time we've got. To harbour our regrets, to ignore them, to push them down where they can't make us wander down a path of further regret. They feed upon themselves. Make us hesitate. Make us miss the things we shouldn't. So we do our best. Which is never good enough. Which will never be good enough. But always we forget. Time heals all wounds, but only because our memories are faulty.