conceptual oyster

the world is my oyster…living in random oyster beds, oceans and marshes worldwide, currently:, New Zealand

wwjd…what would jerry do

Must be getting early, clocks are running late.
Paint my love a morning sky, it’s all cold.
Dawn is breaking everywhere, light a candle, curse the glare
Draw the curtains I don’t care, but it’s all right

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

I see you’ve got your list out, say your piece and kiss off.
Guess I get the gist of it, but it’s all right
Oh well anyway, sorry that you feel that way.

Every silver linings got a touch of grey
I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

It’s a lesson to me, the ablers and the beggars and the thieves
The abc’s we all think of, try to win a little love.
I know the rent is in arrears, the dog has not been fed in years
It’s even worse than it appears, but it’s all right

Cow is giving kerosene, kid can’t read at seventeen
The words he knows are all obscene, but it’s all right

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

Shoe is on the hand that fits, that’s all there really is to it
Whistle through your teeth and spit, but it’s all right

Oh well a touch of grey, kinda suits you anyway,
That’s all I had to say, but it’s all right
I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

It’s a lesson to me, the devils and the east and the free
The abc’s we all must face, try to save a little grace.

even though this is an incredibly joyous moment in my life as an oyster (for those who may be guessing, you’ll find out in good time), much like my shell…the late grateful jerry states…every silver lining has a touch of grey. it’s that same ole bitter-sweet chocolate, the yinyang of life, the cutting oyster shell surrounding the succulent delicacy.

the truth shall set you free as we preach in the south, and denial will get me nowhere. i have realised and am in the midst of accepting that i am leaving my country (odd that this is something i dreamed of for years, and i now leave with apprehension). i am not going for a visit to nz, i am moving there.

it’s almost like sending off a loved one at a funeral wake…a feeling of loss, mourning your familiar life. shedding the mundane objects that made your house a home and closing that shell around the delicate oyster.

sure, i’ll be back…but when…and to what…

for now,
oyster girl in the world…hoping for a gentle warm tidal pool to call home.

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