Collecting Days – But I Don’t Know What For!

People like to collect things.

It’s a natural human experience.

Some people collect friendship.

Others collect grades and marks

As a result of collecting information.

Most people collect comfort,

With food or clothes or to

Make a house a home.

It’s no compulsion, for them

It’s the pleasure of life

Where meaning is made


Collecting connection.


For some it goes wrong

The hoarder has to have the shit you throw away, that’s no use, it ends up in a charity shop or the car boot sale. Your waste will fill my lack of space, as I lost it with the need for more, of bits and pieces, more and more goes through my door and I HAVENOSPACETOBREATHANYMORE

But I don’t know what for.

I don’t    know     what



The dull train goes rickety rack, along the track, you stand and snack, with twisted back, you lean to hope, you have to see, to look at me, with pen in hand, as I go past, you search so fast, for my number,  for my number, write it quick, write it fast,     I’m going,    and     you           smiled                    at


But we know your not free, and you never will be, because now in the rain, comes another dull train – white and black numbers. Look.

Look  look – write me in your book.

But you don’t know what for

You    don’t    know    what



I don’t know what for

Why life? There’s no meaning,

And I’ve given up gleaning

for bits to make sense

Get up in the morning

I act – and I do what I do

Because something needs doing, it has to be done, no matter what, just do it, then do something else, and then do some more. Sometimes it happy and joyful, or sad, or full of the crippling energetic bursts of anxiety that make me stiff and yet shake.


There are times it’s so engrossing that you find a flowing life that runs so easy and so free it happens so quickly and time has passed and I stop.

And I can’t tell you what I’ve done. What have I done?

But I find

In bed at night

When stars shine

That whether or not

The day has been good

Or bad! Positive or joyful and busy or



Or sad, HEAVY and SAD

That all I have done is


Another – meaningless – pointless day

And I go to bed knowing

That tomorrow I will collect

Another – meaningless – pointless day

To add to my growing collection

But I don’t know what for

I    don’t    know    what


All that is left is to find meaning.




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