Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Has The Cat Messed With My Brain?

My brain feels as if it was a ball of yarn and the cat has had it for a very long time.

My writing is all dried up. Not that I don’t want to write but I feel as if I have said everything God wanted me to.

There is nothing on the tip of my tongue and perhaps that is just as well for my tongue has got me into trouble for all my life. Yep! All 85years of it! Of that I am convinced.

My brain is a sieve but that sieve should be at the back of my throat just in front of my tongue, to sift the words that tumble out. IS such a thing possible?

I have a long list of things I would like to have fixed and my tongue is still at the head of the queue.

One of my sisters always said I should join a Cistercian Convent. She told me they took a vow of silence for ever. I am not sure I believe her even now but I appreciated her sentiments (I think).

One of my fears is that God is keeping me down on earth until I am perfect enough to go to Heaven. I believe I would have to live to be well over a hundred and that thought holds no interest for me at all.

I haven’t altogether enjoyed old age up to now. My objections are not uncommon.

Firstly I still miss my husband who died four years ago.
Secondly the bits of my crumbling body that do work, hurt, and those that don’t work, don’t hurt.
Thirdly my vocal cords are paralysed and I can’t sing and just croak so people avoid my company and I can no longer bear to listen to myself singing in the shower.

My neighbours don’t complain though.
I am not sure if they can’t hear me for the noise of their screaming children, or the children are screaming because they did hear me and their parents are busy shutting doors and windows!!

One thing I know, I am a hopeless romantic and hope I will live long enough to meet my soul mate. I have never done so yet and I only hope he doesn’t have memory loss or dementia by the time that day comes. I am a realist and not an optimist so I have my doubts that such a thing would ever happen.

Tomorrow is another day. While there is life there is hope. I don’t have much of either at the moment.

Wyn Barratt. March5th ‘14

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