The mountain

I just watched the full moon rise over the mountains, like a true hippy. I hope everyone back there is pleased with themselves. See what I’ve become? It was fucking beautiful though. I nearly cried. I didn’t cry. These eyes are dry as the arid desert sands. They have leaked quite sufficiently this week, I feel…

This place is fucking weird.

An old mining hamlet with a sort of Magaluf edge. The colour scheme for the apartment block is lime green and orange. You get an immediate migraine on entrance, if you’re lucky. If you’re less lucky you might visit the pub. Which is where the end of time went to die. I’m not ungrateful by the way, I would live in a shoe if it meant I could stay in the mountains forever. But people, just people. Swarms of sweaty moaners in shell suits…and vacuum packed Lycra clad bodies trimmed with fur carrying their weird Polly Pocket dogs.

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writer, musician, artist, joiner

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