here is a b♥x, a ♫♪ musical ♪♫ b♥x: I need someone to comfort me

and I'll cry if I want to

I've had the most dreadful couple of days, really really awful; everything is crap; everything has gone pear-shaped; I feel like shit again, even tho just a few days ago I was feeling as if I was beginning to be able to handle things again with a modicum of success

I'm exhausted, feel as if I have flu coming on, need someone to come and look after me as I have no energy or strength to do it myself, need to phone a friend - except I don't have anyone I can call, am so lonely I could cry (in fact the tears are streaming down my face as I write this)

fucking hell - why does it have to be like this sometimes? how can I be on all the medication I'm on and still feel like this? how can I have good days and then have bad days again? I want to say "it's not fair" but we weren't allowed to say that when I was little and I can still hear my mother's reply in my head ("black man's hair never will be") (didn't make any sense to me when she used to say that, as we lived in Cheltenham where there were no people of colour) so I won't and anyhow it's not about fair it's about responsibility, isn't it? it's OK, there are no answers to any of those rhetorical questions, are there, apart from the fact it's just a life and I should learn to let go a little

but I need a hug and some comfort and I'm so very very sad again and I hate it

I'm sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket for my destination.
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

Ev'ry day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony
I need someone to comfort me.

Homeward bound, I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Silently for me.

PAUL SIMON & ART GARFUNKEL

OK, I have a house to buy today! so just grab a Crunchie (or some salted buttered popcorn) and per-lease keep your fingers crossed for me that it all goes swimmingly. . .

and I'll see you back on the roof later - the birthday celebrations segueing seamlessly into a housewarming! (you didn't see that coming, did you?) (or maybe you did!!)

love after love

The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror and each will smile at the other's welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.

DEREK WALCOTT

feeling kinky?

Thank you for the days, those endless days, those sacred days you gave me. I’m thinking of the days - I won’t forget a single day, believe me. I bless the light, I bless the light that lights on you, believe me. And though you’re gone, you’re with me every single day, believe me. Days. I remember all my life. Days when you can’t see wrong from right. You took my life but then I knew that very soon you’d leave me. But it’s alright. Now I’m not frightened of this world believe me. I wish today could be tomorrow, the night is long it just brings sorrow, let it wait. And though you’re gone, you’re with me every single day - believe me.

Every single day. Believe me.

Henry W Longfellow

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea, and on its outer point, some miles away, the lighthouse lifts its massive masonry, A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides in the white tip and tremour of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright, through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light, with strange, unearhly splendour in the glare! No one alone: from each projecting cape And perilous reef along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape, Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge... The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din of wings and winds and solitary cries, Blinded and maddened by the light within, Dashes himself against the glare, and dies. A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, Still grasping in his hand the fire of love, it does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock, but hails the mariner with words of love. "Sail on!" it says: "Sail on, ye stately ships! And with your floating bridge the ocean span; Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse. Be yours to bring man neared unto man."

it's all right

Here comes the sun,
here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right.
Little darling, it's been
a long cold lonely winter.
Little darling, it feels like
years since it's been here.
Here comes the sun,
here comes the sun
and I say it's all right.
Little darling, the smiles
returning to the faces.
Little darling, it seems like
years since it's been here.
Here comes the sun,
here comes the sun
and I say it's all right.
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that
ice is slowly melting.
Little darling, it seems like
years since it's been clear.
Here comes the sun,
here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right.
It's all right.

THE BEATLES

true minds

Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come: love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

what would YOU do?

What would do think
if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up
and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears
and I'll sing you a song,
And I'll try not to sing out of key.

I get by with a little help from my friends, I get high with a little help from my friends, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.

What do I do when my love is away? (Does it worry you to be alone?) How do I feel by the end of the day? (Are you sad because you're on your own?)

No, I get by with a little help from my friends, Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends, Mmm, I'm gonna to try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.

Would you believe in a love at first sight? Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time. What do you see when you turn out the light? I can't tell you, but I know it's mine.

Oh... I get by
with a little help from my friends,
I'm gonna try
with a little help from my friends
I get high
with a little help from my friends
Yes, I get by
with a little help from my friends,
with a little help from my friends...

here is a b♥x, a ♫♪ musical ♪♫ b♥x

it's my blog

a tune for today!

THE WISEST WORDS

while you're here, please feel free to feed my fish!

oh, what a day!

happy blogging with iltv

girls and boys come out to play, go on - you know you want to. . .

circle of clues camper

what a to do. . .

festivities on a friday:

get the feeling!

a fruitful friday

. . .and for mel

(I'm growing vegetables!)

frets but no regrets

guiseppe ungaretti

word?

does santa need a helper?

join in the festive fun @

jingle shells

so who's up for an advent calendar. . .

forgetfulness. . .

if you could travel within you own life time and that of a loved one, as a casual observer, nothing more or less, on the unerstanding this would mean that you could not change the course of your life or theirs in anyway, would you wish to experience that?

how old are you?

THE RICHES OF A RAINBOW?

HEY! I have a glass. . .

YOU CALLED?

some sauce. . .

a true friend gave me this

like a clock whose hands are spinning

the love hearts never lie, but did they tell the truth?

"hitched to everything else"

need to borrow this?

rock paper scissors?

can you keep a secret. . .

with love from france

there has been a request for "it all"

when push comes to shove, courtesy of Rascal Flatts

j is for jack-o-lantern

guess what the tide washed up? ME!!

a bientot cheri(e)s

ILTV is shortly to go on her hols. . . should she:

holes

the time has come. . .

love after love

I could have danced

feeling kinky?

god only knows

ILTV wonders whether (or not) to 'av' a change of avatar

is it better or worse to be

tied up?

tied together?

tied down?

if u know who they r. . .

thank you, mig

I'm knackered & in need of a break - where shall I go

busy busy busy

Koyaanisqatsi

this Thursday: you are cordially invited to a fancy dress party - rsvp!

language. . .

i like the view!

and I love typography

my best ever read

blind date

blind date - update: anything you want to know?

you have unpicked the stitches I so carefully placed around my heart

it's my blog but. . .

a life in only six words

paper scissors stone

fancy a game. . .

Henry W Longfellow

having saved myself ££££s on the curtains, what should I now spend the money on:

fancy a new poll/quiz?

something random. . .

with thanks to mig :)

it's all right

the cat's mother

money, money, money

true minds