The Tail of the Buffalion (Part 2...)
All is not lost dear reader for we are now inside the belly of the beast. The Buffalion has gobbled us up and we lie in her belly ready to be reborn, broken and ready to be reawoken and awake to face another day standing. A jigsaw can always be rebuilt. So let us build ourselves up from the ground. Let us build up from the bottom to the top. Let us grow into ourselves once more. Let us feel the way we where when we were whole. Let us grow back into ourselves and piece-by-piece we start to put ourselves together again. Toes meeting feet meeting knees, meeting thighs meeting pelvis. We start again. Start building ourselves up from nothing. From pieces of meat we glue ourselves back together again. Back to the way we were. Back to a time remembered, a happier time forgotten. Back to when we were young, fun and frivolous. Back to a yesterday remembered. Suddenly I feel myself again. My fingers tingling and hands are changing from purple, to blue to red, filling my veins with warm pumping blood once more. The jigsaw is nearly done. A few pieces to go but the picture is being rebuilt inside the belly of the Buffalion. I punch my hand to feel. To feel as I felt before. To have that sense of self once more. The torso is back to the way it was and my chest is still to inflate and my belly is bloating as it did on the other side of the jaws of the Buffalion. I can feel myself again building up like blocks of multicoloured Legoland Meccano sets, I begin to build up and out of nothing I put the pieces back into place to start to live again, to be reborn in the belly. My facial features are in tatters but perfectly workable but visibly revolting as they were before the Buffalion broke me into pieces and chomped me all up and placed me inside the belly of a strange but beautiful beast. Now I am busy building, building myself up to continue this story ……this marvellous jackanory story….to be continued…
All is not lost dear reader for we are now inside the belly of the beast. The Buffalion has gobbled us up and we lie in her belly ready to be reborn, broken and ready to be reawoken and awake to face another day standing. A jigsaw can always be rebuilt. So let us build ourselves up from the ground. Let us build up from the bottom to the top. Let us grow into ourselves once more. Let us feel the way we where when we were whole. Let us grow back into ourselves and piece-by-piece we start to put ourselves together again. Toes meeting feet meeting knees, meeting thighs meeting pelvis. We start again. Start building ourselves up from nothing. From pieces of meat we glue ourselves back together again. Back to the way we were. Back to a time remembered, a happier time forgotten. Back to when we were young, fun and frivolous. Back to a yesterday remembered. Suddenly I feel myself again. My fingers tingling and hands are changing from purple, to blue to red, filling my veins with warm pumping blood once more. The jigsaw is nearly done. A few pieces to go but the picture is being rebuilt inside the belly of the Buffalion. I punch my hand to feel. To feel as I felt before. To have that sense of self once more. The torso is back to the way it was and my chest is still to inflate and my belly is bloating as it did on the other side of the jaws of the Buffalion. I can feel myself again building up like blocks of multicoloured Legoland Meccano sets, I begin to build up and out of nothing I put the pieces back into place to start to live again, to be reborn in the belly. My facial features are in tatters but perfectly workable but visibly revolting as they were before the Buffalion broke me into pieces and chomped me all up and placed me inside the belly of a strange but beautiful beast. Now I am busy building, building myself up to continue this story ……this marvellous jackanory story….to be continued…
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