Shore up your foundations, build something solid*
Maybe I was right, when I wrote, last night
That I'd stayed too long
Whatever the reason, insomnia the result
Abandoning my bed,
I paced the corridors of my childhood
like a well worn tiger who came to tea
only to realise that it was the middle of the night
and everyone had gone
Grey harsh light grew instead of the beautiful dawn
that would have made up for the long scratchy sleepless hours
briefly I contemplated flight on my bike
early hours on the canal to the sea
rejected as perhaps just slightly rash
When it was finally time to get up
I fell fast asleep on the floor
and lurched awake again, feeling the day was turned on its head
I know, I thought, my blip: I'll stand on my head, and somehow, recording this will right the day.
shore up your foundations, build something solid
barely awake, I toppled
Crunch. My camera, my sight, my sanity. Crunched.
I crumpled, curled up, in the hollow pit of post-sleepless-night a foetal ball, and howled.
I really did. Sorry S for the distraught phonecall when you were barely awake. Thank you for the offer of yours.
I feel so stupid. I cannot believe I've broken my camera, and I really don't think I want to tell anyone how. Except I have now. The lens mechanism is broken, it whirrs and nothing moves. No pictures. No blips.
I need to get it fixed.
I found my mother's camera, she'd left it behind. I felt better once I'd taken this picture, though the camera is not as nice or as small as mine, and I can't quite figure out how it works. But at least it's not squished. I can keep doing this. And I need to.
* this was the horoscope I read on Monday, told me exactly what I had to do this week. I should have listened.