Thursday

The words on the screen seem to write themsleves as I watch the blur of the screen. The click click sound of the keyboard and the feel of the smooth worn keys give me comfort in these times of trial.

Friday

In times of trouble she is always drawn to remember a passage she once read as a child;

When darkness like a cloud descends and banishes the light,

When day is just a memory and all there is, is night,

When heaviness engulfs your heart crushing it like a stone,

Find hope in knowing through it all that you are not alone'

She realised yesterday how much finding this and keeping it had made her smile, how many dark days a simple rhyme had lifted. Looking at him she thought maybe if he sang the tune in his head too, that it might lift some of the burden he was feeling. Responsibility can be liberating, it can also be crucifying, sink or swim. Despite his frown maybe this will help him learn to swim?

Monday

As the dark nights draw in, she begins to realise that darker clouds are looming on the horizon.

A deeper chill runs through her body and a sense of knowing comes upon her. Maybe this time she is wrong, she has been before, but maybe not. If so what will happen? Will she be saved or will this be then end? The finale. The last time...

A draft runs over her toes as she curls them under to escape the cold, she feels drawn and vaunerable and the ache in her neck from a restless night has begun to throb mercilessly. Her mind drifts back to the warmer months, to sunshine, to the coconut smell of bodies, to the endless days and all too brief nights, to him, to the others. It all merges in a big swirl of melanchol, almost making her dizzy.
She draws the blanket tighter around her shoulders and pauses, closes her eyes tight, for the few seconds that she exhales she feels release, but the glare when she opens her eyes brings it all back.

It's true what they say, you can bury it, but you can never escape it...

...what's that
....in the corner??



a tail.........................

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Give sorrow words the grief that does not speak whispers the o er-fraught heart and bids it break.

Wednesday... wednesday hmm not a personal favourite. The one day of crazed limbo that occurs weekly. I have a ritual for these kinds of days, if possible pull the covers up around my eyes and melt back into my secret world for a while or if at work daydream, as much as possible and as wild and varied as possible.

My monkey has been quiet of late I think he has found someone else to torment as he looks at me with almost fondness at times- quite bizzare. Or maybe he too feels the mid week strain. Who can say.

Friday

It seems so long ago that the monkey was sat smiling down at me, seasons have gone full circle and the night times now seem endless and fruitless.
everyone's as I lay down to sleep dog tired with stress and nerves, my head begins to beat a little rhythm some kind of incessant tapping which keeps my night time awake and furtive.
Alone or next to him I still can't find that one glimpse of sleep that I hope for, each day becomes the next and I drudge on aware that I have become a walking daydream of yesterday.
I fight to make sense of it all, I'm tired I lay down then I awake my nightly journey into the non place has begun again.

My monkey looks on now with an almost devious glint in his eye, as though maybe this is what he wanted for me. To have the same painted expression that he has been forced to wear, something of nothing. He should be out doing something seeing the world enjoying new possibilities, yet he can't he won't he's lazy. He's stuck here with me and he documents my movements with every glance that I cast his way.

I think I'll trick him, turn him the other way yet he sees me and in that crucial moment I back off, slope back to bed and sulk at what might have been .

Sunday

The weather is dreary and my monkeys not partial to the rain so he is sitting longinly gazing at the fish in next doors pond.

Nothing will inspire him whilst he's in this mood... Sulking !!

So no doubt he'll spend the next few hours gazing out at the pools of water gathering outside, each new drop creating ripples for him to get lost in. The sky darkening the room around him with it's deep greys, angry purples and flashes of blue orange.

He sits and he gazes and he dreams , he is contented.