In The Tunnels of Time - Blast! (off).

The struggle for human existence?

Or just mine?

Watch out! Here it comes…. A typical Bitsnbobs mess, with spaces in between the lines for attempted clarity.

I was 14 years old when Neil stepped onto the moon.

I was almost 64 when I woke this morning and I can’t make any sense of it – his step, my sleep and the fifty years that lie(s) between.

And then I hear the wind and I stretch my arm out from under the covers and feel the breeze on my skin.

I feel dry; I need water, yet it rained again somewhere in the early morning.

I drink now.

Why am I thinking of Neal? I didn’t dream of him and yet a memory, no, not a memory – a thought – comes even before I open my eyes.

And it is he that lingers with the touch of the wind on my palm.

How many thousands have climbed Everest – I read this somewhere lately, I also read of plans to install a ladder to help even more climb – yet how many have been Neal?

And how many remain?

Did we do this together.

Do we loose this together?

Or is it my loss alone?

So then I think of her, of course, it is inevitable.

The first step.

The last, from which I will not wake.

 She is in the night, my day, the moon and the wind.

And nowhere.

Gone.

Departed.

Was only ever there in my dreams.

I want to close my mind.

My soul.

Hide away.

I want everything, or nothing. It has always been my curse.

The moon.

Or oblivion.