Life for Lola

Oh dear...one too many light ales at the club last night and I'm feeling a little inertia. I woke at 5am and tossed and turned but failed to slumber. Peculiar notions ran through my head, old memories tossed up on the shoreline of my mind. One favourable one was when I pulled a sledge home in the winter. The sky was dark yet the earth was lit by the white of the snow. I must have been around 12 years of age yet I remember it vividly. I wonder what it is that decides what days we keep and which ones we discard until the dreaded onslaught of alzheimer's?

Another thought I had came to me as I heard the birds sing their timeless tune. I noted how it never changes, though the centuries pass, wars, plague, famine and teenybopper pin-ups come and go, the birds still sing the same tune at the same time. Infact, the world spins, the sun and the moon do their thing and the birds join in - there is nothing inbetween. There is nothing here but a blackhole of time.