greenpanther

Isolation Day 6. (Following post may contain figures of my imagination and shouldnt be taken to seriously)


I am a goat, running freely along the steppes of Kazakhstan, Destination mountains. I run and run, stay at waterholes, sees some local folks wandering around with mules. Well at the mountains i see a golden field of beautiful springflowers that i will feast on...

Suddenly i wake up when the "killer" Bubba shakes my shoulder and ask if im alright. I say yes im fine why?
He points at the rubbergloves im chewing on and asks why im in the cabinet standing on all four.
I reply gentle that this is how we deal with grief in Sweden and that we must honor our gods like this.
He tells a short story about how they have similar traditions in Kenya and starts cleaning my room.

Traumatic episodes as a friend like Steven passing on is hard to handle... I got an outlet for my feelings when i tried to escape from the hospital earlier. Even though my feeble attempts didn't pay of, i'm a little bit happier and saner.

I am going to bed and hopefully they will cut my wool tomorrow.



Mr. R. C(ya)