nocturnal notes

its just that moment at the end of a long hard day that we cannot bear that one tiny push, one tiny prick, that ideally we should ignore. it all falls apart at the seems, from the inside out in such a haphazard mess of toxin waste that even the bravest of men cannot wade through it to see the crumpled ball of weakness that is us curled in our foetal position. i was recently at a book launch that showcased a book which was at best cliched and at worst nauseating, when a newly found friend pointed out that it felt like the room was not full of humanbeings but of uterus'. sometimes in the worst moments i wonder whether it does actually boil down to simply that. a uterus with an umbilical cord that someone detached from only one end.