Culture

What did it all matter when there was a wheelbarrow to turn?

 

Let me tell you a story.

Talk? Dance? What did it all matter when there was a wheelbarrow to turn?  There was no crowd to please. Where have you been all my life?  I hide. I run. I shake. I shiver.

I breathe. I sigh. I need my medicine cocktail. I eat from the earth.

This is what has happened to my brain. It has turned to mush. I can’t recall anything. I see that image. I know it means something. But words run over and over in my head that have no meaning.

I have a wheelbarrow somewhere. But why? Where is my home? At this point, home is nowhere and everywhere as I recall nothing and everything simultaneously.

FF_photo-by-piya-singh-bittercharm-6

@piya singh

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