Monday, 29 August 2016


Yesterday I spent a hefty portion of the day wandering around holding a unicorn.This happens when you have a four year old. The irony of the unicorn was not lost on me. All this time has past, and still no metaphorical unicorn. In other words, there is no romantic partner to have and to hold. Yet there I was, carrying a unicorn that I really didn't want to have or hold. Fate, it seems, has a razor sharp sense of humour.

Maybe waiting for some metaphor to start shitting rainbows through its’ arse, is a futile hope, and, put like that, it actually sounds profoundly unappealing. Perhaps, much like actual unicorns, the metaphorical variety doesnt exist?  I had thought I'd found my unicorn but they thought otherwise thus it's looking increasingly likely that the concept of soulmates is flawed.

Somehow I have to believe that the metaphor has potential for reality, otherwise it's bloody depressing. Let's face it, Im not actually looking for fairies at the bottom of the garden or searching for pots of gold hidden somewhere over the rainbow. It's not that happy clappy hippy out there. All I seek is someone that fits. The missing pieces from the puzzle. Essentially, someone with whom I share a deep, magical connection.

Statistically things look unfavourable. There is only hope and wishes. Therefore im keeping every cliché I can throw at this post crossed until they turn up………….


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