Anticipating Hollowness Creek

 

 

 

 

Anticipating Hollowness Creek

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am like a cat that likes to get on top of things, and less like the dog who attacks from the rear.  Hindsight and am not here to say, “I told you so.”  That approach is so yesterday, and am having a reaction to BANNER FLEW, and perhaps after reading the Urban Dictionary, coining this fresh expression of a tired yesterday,  I must tell you.  “I am done with the turkey.”    And playing chicken with the enemy is not my substitute for dog-eat-dog misery that comes with reading Banner News.  Tired of things, and is what happens after all the firework displays make New Year’s Eve what it is.  Done and ready to serve up a new year, and brings up the rare moment when I have to say with Ernest apology, “Checking for doneness, and I don’t know how to do it.”  So done with Turkey and flash fires caused by grease and questionable slime.  Emphasis is now on washing your hands of all of this, and chew the fat with others, less and less.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to the cat, and I am on it.  High as one could climb and now taking over.  He talks about the utter hollowness of hitting rock bottom, once he has climbed as far as others and structures will allow.  Far beyond what we expect, the nasty reality is that even as 2016 leaves us, we are stuck with the monumental task of getting down, when staying at number #1 fights the issue of 15 minutes of fame.  How long will we talk about the rising temperature and the heat, and Turkey and Chicken and now vegetarian.  Meet and more meat, and maybe have had enough.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Future of our Earth and what’s going on in Hollowness Creek, and mixing the global with the local, offers its own challenges.  Brain-Dead and would like to think we could opt out of the whole experience, but then again do want to bypass the old teachings:  “We learn from our mistakes.”   Cat in the Hat and other rhyming schemes to teach the children and see results on a positive scale.  Home and school and works like Pass-Fail, and we all pass and dumb down and when the time is right, come home for dinner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hollowness Creek and why would I be interested beyond the minimum wage of labor to discover the value of what Blogger Stoney goes on and on about.  Take more risks and read between lines.  With calloused heart and doneness-feet, we can walk away from the obvious and say, “Over-cooked and over-rated.  Nightclubs on New Year’s Eve, and the roof is caving in.  He says,

 

 

 

 “Where is the cat? “ 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And looks around, but not enough to reveal what really happened.  Scene of the crime and could it be nothing more than wasting time and spending money that comes from the plastic of a card, that records where you go and what you do, in terms of personal spending.  Swarmed by agents and investigators, and am not looking forward to the aftermath, and how turkey and other stations in life, like cooking one’s own goose and celebrating in an inebriated state, or where Marijuana is legal.  Baring his teeth and growling at the height of fireworks going off,  is like a state of war in places we have never been, but send our neighbor’s children.  “Simply Awful.”   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fireworks and animals suffer, and in some cases, humans too.   Commander-in-Chief, or soon to be and he tweets about it.  “Attack the hardcopy and you will discover.  It didn’t happen? Trust me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

End of the year and it is being reported.  Pets and friendships going up in smoke as someone detonates the lethal blow that has us backing up, in a kind of deadness and stupor, rising up to meet us.  Always trouble in the crowd, when fun and frenzy have an energy all their own.   Time of fun and  celebration, and his inner voice betrays the hollowness of his heart when he says,  “This is for the birds.  The cat is stalking.”  And doesn’t get to finish the sentence,

 

so it makes no sense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 And when repeated on the news, is even less comprehensible.   Seems to speak for itself and echo a message we know to be part of the anticipation of    Hollowness Creek, complete with muddy water and shallowness that invites a crossing.  Nothing to lose and would not considering going around.  Nightclub and dancing and it is what others do on this night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wade in.  Not to consider the consequences and fallout from flashpoints and sun bursts and a cold moon rising.    Turkey and the hunger mirage, and keep the tradition going, serving this over and over, until of course, we have had enough, and take the doneness course, so we can say.  “I am done with Turkey.”     Can I be excused?”  And we find out there is no real explanation for all of this.  Except that it occurs, and happens somewhere out of sight, but after its all over,  are the cameras and the replay and the commentary.  Digital and Remote but feels just like standing in Hollowness Creek, and is quite chilling.  Sends shivers up my spine.  Not sure how it affects the children but it is what they do.  Be polite.   Attend.  Then run off, as if it never happened.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is New Year’s Eve and didn’t come here to administer neither wrong nor right.  Wanted to have fun and answered the call.  Wasn’t in the mood for watching all of this on TV or The Big Screen, and figured being one with this night, would be quite proper.  But then the cat takes all this to unearthly height, and I am left with more questions than answers.  Searching.  Trying to make a case for far away frizzle and explosion.  Wild Turkey on demand, and maybe I just had enough.  Too much drinking.  Too much fun.  Is that possible, we can have too much ?  

 

 

 

She repeats the message.  “I am done here.  Let’s go.”  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never considered that until now, and just kept going.  Clock strikes midnight and sparks fly.  Detonated and now floating about all consideration of coming down like this.  Cat lands on its feet.  As for me.  I might be dead, or numb or something.  Later it will be reported and spread all over the planet.   “Simply Awful.”   And other’s will keep repeating that ole refrain.  “It never happened.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Kiss and Make Up.”  She said.  “Let’s be friends forever.”

 

 

 

 

 

 
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