Soon the days and nights which are stretched beyond their elasticity will end.
And, film- you will be out of my hands, out in the world, on your own.
But, you will always have me to blame for all your inadequacies.
As for me, I might retain faint memories. The shortness of breath and dizziness.
How you literally drove me up against the wall. And, the faint reassurance of the medic.
"There is nothing wrong with you, just a bit run down"
The long hours spend staring at the edit machine while you tried to play all your audacious games. Refusing to be really moulded into anything. Almost every one who passed by said "you have all the right material. There is some thing wrong with the shaping"
Make be I should take a bow and accept the inadequacies.
Time moves like a dull lizard. Beginning the same journey every day and ending at the beginning every time.