Life in the Lost Lane
A collective of English Gentlemen
Thursday, July 27

The Relentless Progression
B's contribution is a post-script to this earler item.

The swirling memories and crippling depression of the events that transpired two weeks ago are starting to settle like the last grains of sand after a windstorm in the desert.

The unbridled passion that flowed just a few short weeks ago was all but destroyed by the Saturday night fiasco. A strange and expensive mix of underperformance and insufficiency drove each man to come to the conclusion that all was lost in a world they once loved. Timeless moments in their lives reduced to historical fact, never to be reborn. It was a place that left desires unfullfilled, and dreams crushed under the heavy feet of life's unforgiving, relentless progression into banality.

Lines three wide and sixty deep were overcome while day turned to night and then turned to day again. The low rumblings that were presented as the showpiece failed to engage hearts and minds, causing instead the deep waters of unrest to well up a sour mood; a lacklustre and lifeless emotion rarely seen at such an event.

By the end of it all looks, smiles and handshakes were exchanged with the kind of inevitable politeness the English possess.

Inordinate heights of pursuasion should be mustered for doubts to be quashed and determinations to be swayed back towards the light.

posted by B @ 10:51 AM


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