Brenda: My World, My Pain, My Joy.

I don't know what came over 'me' Today when I had a Mighty Tumble.

I had had my morning coffee, had done some sit ups and chins, and I had had my coco-pops. I went into the toilets when something 'CLOUDED' my judgement. My brain felt as light as a pebble skipping across a wintry pool, and I felt as if I was flying in a ring above a nest. I was soaring, high, not unlike a grand hawk, when I 'Fell down', landing directly under the sink in a small pond of water. I hit the right side of my head upon the floor, and I yelped!

It turns out that SOMEONE (CAROL!!!!) had left the taps running again. WHY I DO NOT KNOW. All I have left to show for it now is this great thumping green mark above my eyebrow, and a swollen lip.

But something happened right then, right as I was falling toward the floor under the "sink". I don't know what it is, but It was something profound, not unlike a profundity. For a moment, I felt like "I" was someone else, as if "I" was really "They" or "She" or "He" or even someone other than these three. Was someone trying to tell me something? An "Important Message"? Was I being made aware of a great something. A "Great Matter"?

Time will tell. It may be a million things. But I'm pretty sure it was something...

Love isn't easy when you're a prisoner
People won't believe you if you're a prisoner
Life can be so hard when you're a prisoner
So Lonesome and so Fragile when you're a prisoner
But Don't get that foot and Raise it Up
Don't tilt your heel in my direction
Don't you Dare stamp your boots above my head
Don't Step on Me until I've bled.
I've Bled.
I've Bled.
I've Bled.
Hag Ven Taal Sun Gooben Grot
Haji Can Waal Dun Lubben Stein
Dik bin Tik Hak UugenFreud
Schloss Jin Yacht lahst BuggenBrain.
Don't Trample on my Wooden Pipes
Don't hike up and down upon my face
My knees, they Please, they don't just 'Tease'
So why go on and make my bleed?
Don't step on me.
Don't step on Me.
Rig Tilben Me.

I, Brenda, swear here to day to never let a nother soul harm anyone close to me.
I, Brenda, will never be taken advantage of again.
Not by YOU, HER, OR ANYONE IN THIS WHOLE STINKING CESSPIT.
I, Brenda, will never again take all of that muckiness.

You, 'blub', you know who you are.

owWWWWWW I've been to the seaside,
I've walked along the Thames
I've listened to the wind blow
I've shown you my 'Best'
But nothing does it better
Nothing more 'Sublime'
than when I undo a little button
and show you what's mine
I will do a little growl,
And lick my randy paws
I will shuffle down my 'duffle'
and break our Human Laws
I said that nothing does it better
and I said I'd show you my 'Best'
So I'll do a little better
And BEAR YOU MY CHEST
BEAR YOU ME CHEST
BEAR
BEAR
BEAR
BEAR
BEAR YOU MY CHEST
BEAR
NOT BARE
BUT BEAR
BEAR
BEAR
BEAR YOU MY CHEST
Ruffle down me 'duffle'
AND BEAR YOU MY CHEST
Shuffle down me stuffle
AND BEAR YOU MY CHEST
Guffle up your muffle
AND BEAR YOU MY CHEST
Puffle up your Twattle
AND BEAR YOU MY CHEST
and then when it's Quiet
you'll hear in your ear
something scary behind you
something on the pier
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOWL!!!!!!!

This morning, while Reading upon the up-down Bunk, someone hushed me a note folded up into tiny little mincey squares.

It was Pat.

Sometimes It seems this whole Place is run by these secret Notes. And what did Pat say?

She's In much Pain. And she needs a hug.

This place isn't for people like us, emotional and sensitive beings who thrive on divine love and propriety. We belong outside, on the hilltops, in the plazas eating gelato. I'll be out soon, but Pat? Will she ever get out? Not with those carrots winding her up getting to her and ushering her into a rage. She half got a temper on her. And I "KNOW" as soon as Pat gets out she gonna go down on a rampage and wield her lollies about she aint gonna take no grime from no wolly.

Please, God, be with Pat.

I am Naked and I am Prisoner.
I am wet and I am Cold.
Who do go there, my sweet fairhead Child.
Oh sweet Chile' of mine.
Who do go there, amongst the shrubs, Come forth and make Yourself Known.
Don't be shy, Don't Blush your Eye,
No need to fear the Naked Prisoner,
Who art thou behind the Beam?
Peeking gingerly with eyes so wide,
Do you fear the Naked Prisoner?
Come hither Come hither, upon my breast a Quivver.
Come here my child.
Sweet Chile' of mine.

In here no one can" see" us
We're "Invisible"
Like the Invisible Ones that Live Below
That live on Our lawns
And we Like it that way because they let us be
We're Gnome People
Little Little People
Gnome People
Tiny Tiny People
We "eat" crumbs from the Floor
We "drink Milk" from the River
That is really a Puddle
But a River to us
Because We are Gnome People
Little Little People
Gnome People
Tiny Tiny People
And we Love Eachother
Love Eachother
We make Love to eachother
This is Gnome Love, Gnome Love.
We may be nobody to them
We are locked in a Cage
We may be small to them
But our world is in our minds
And To Our Gnome Love they are Blind
They don't SEE what they don't KNOW
because we're Gnome People
Little Little People
Gnome Lovers
Little Little Lovers
Love me for who I am
The Little Gnome inside
Love my little hands
Tiny Little Gnome Hands
Pull my sleeve
and We'll run
Into the underworld
Into the Gnome World
Gnome People
Little Little People
Gnome People
Tiny Tiny People.

I'm so lonely. So terribly, terribly lonely. Especially now that PAT HAS GONE.

We were at lunch yesterday afternoon when the trouble started in the caff. Marie got a wift that I had written about her here on the site. She waddled over with those two whales she keeps as company and started a wibble with us over her bloody quilt and having dared talk about online, in full view of the world to judge. Bloody cow. She got her carrots on me and Pat could have none of that and she lunged at the table, sauce went everywhere. Pat really showed her what for but she got sent to G-unit and now I'm on me bloody lone at the 'room'.

SET ME ON FIRE
AND LET ME BURN
THE WORLDS HAD ITS DAY
AND IM GOING BEFORE ITS MY TURN
SET ME ON FIRE
AND BURN MY HAIR
I'LL BE HAIRLESS
AND I'LL HIDE IN MY LAIR.

Chills have come and drawn us in
Once again this faithful time of Year
Icey streets and Icey Hearts
And I am Winter's Mutton grazing on the Grass
Swing By Here and Swing By There
Wonder never ceases to make us Stare
For life is gone but will it end
This Winter's Mutton who's heart won't mend
She is the Force
She is the Light
But Winter's Mutton has flown the kite
For in the sky where stars do tell
A plane heads south to the streets of hell
And on a tram in Bujumbura
my Love, My sweet does sit with Noora
An African princess and no old sheep
unlike this Mutton she did once keep
My face is worn and my hands are sore
this Winter's Mutton can graze no more
It will sit within a hay filled barn
a sweater for my love i will do darn
But what is its use in african streets?
and in african beds with african meats?
Oh give me the field
and let me roam
This Winter's Mutton is here alone.