Sunday 3 December 2017

Shattered Things

Shattered Things ©
By
Michael Casey

I just put the rubbish out and as I stood by the recycle bin I noticed that there was some faded red plastic on the floor, I did not know what it was at first as it was all shattered.It was in fact and old clothes peg. Then as I came back inside from the cold I noticed some shattered weeds or plant stems, tiny ones. It could be a witch casting a spell with DIY ingredients, eye of newt is very hard to come by after all, or it could just have been the wind and rain lashing the house last night. Though a witch would be more romantic, our own house witch, my Shanghai wife has gone to church, when she comes home she may cast more spells on me.

So it gave me the idea for today’s talk, 3rd Dec 2017, just so word historians can track back my words, assuming they dig up this computer in the future, or Google search archive rediscovers me assuming North Korea hasn’t nuked Birmingham for me telling Kim to leave and let his people live. A bit of Historical context for those scrapheap men in the future.

Shattered, everything can shatter. Everything can change, apart from what? Your Spirit perhaps? You are pretty so you flaunt you looks, and you catch a rich boy, maybe you are a WAG. Then when you lose your looks or the stretch marks don’t go away. And then he goes away with a newer model, literally. So you illusions are shattered. He did not love you, he just loved your hotness, once your hotness left you, then so did he, and now you are out in the cold. Everything is shattered.

Or he had loads of money so you married him, but he spent without saving, then there was a hiccup. No savings left, so you left him for a newer model, a man with a car dealership selling all the latest models of Audi and Rolls Royce. Another marriage shattered.

Lav from Russian was stocky and strong he could lift 100kilos with one hand, and 250kilos using both. He wasn’t a weight lifter, though he was always lifting weights, truck tires from the workshop where he worked keeping the fleet moving. He just did his job and loved it, knowing that nobody would ever love him, he was just the incredible Hulk, a red Russian version, but he did enjoy eating his greens, which made his fart too often.

One day the boss’s daughter came in her windscreen shattered, so Lav fixed it for her, he told her not to stray as the workshop was a dangerous place. But she did not listen, so when a rack of truck tires fell over she could have been killed and should have been. But Lav saved her, deflecting the tires away. Now this was the road to Damascus or is it Moscow experience that she needed in her life, and cutting the story short she became his wife. But he’s just an ogre, a Shrek look alike, you should not be his wife.

Sometimes events shatter your illusions, and you come to different conclusions. Some pretty girls see past the money, and some men see further than the honey. Shatter the glass and see further than her ass, look past his package, his wad of money, and no I’m not being funny, love is more than money. Maybe I’m naive and what am I trying to achieve? If you ever see a pretty woman, and I’m not talking about Julia Roberts, with an ugly fat man, maybe it’s love. Or maybe a Brad Pitt with a wrinkly girl, maybe its love.

Shatter a few illusions in your mind, just try and be kind, and not just look at his or her behind. Don’t just look at the size of her thighs, or at his deep blue eyes. Or the size of his wealth, don’t use stealth, just look at the man in his head, not just there lying in your bed.  

Enough of this rhyming ranting, if he or she fits the bill you’ll never be on the Pill, because love is without barriers, internal or external. You both together shatter all expectations, with your unusual flirtations. A man with a limp, or a man with a stutter, can win the fair maiden, for love is blind, love is deaf, love is dumb, love has no senses because because because Love is Divine Comedy. And if you don’t know that then its time you shattered a few self delusions, and that dear friends is my conclusion, and no I’m not fat it’s an optical illusion.       








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