Potaytoe, potahto, tomayto, tomahto

Twas supposed to be a short call,

a how was your day, fare thee well, have a good day at work call.

As per usual habit, 5 mins more can turn into a something else completely, not that anyone minds I guess.

Then mid call, a terminolgy mix up sees me stumble into a darkish soliloquey of almost epic chidedness / erg ness. A gaping hole opens in my chest and somewhere at the back of my mind a few of the guys are doing their own version of the spanish bull run.

Confusion on the other end of the digital cans, transforms into a simple statement which makes me pull of the old combat boots and dine on them. "Erm, thats not quite what I meant...

Of course the ensuing explination of definitions turns this writer quite sheepish... and almost on cue a large dappish grey fox stalks past the window.

Then something unexpected happens at the end of the somewhat patient reply to my little rant.

I'm told and reminded of a little statement methinks youve just won another battle...

My mind snaps up a recursive thread of similar utterings and talks,
a pattern forms. And a new angle to the entire situation presents itself.

Counter-balanced between a guarded suit and contact lensed eyes, between instability and insecurity, lies a blue ball, a lemon and a speck of green.

Just as instability is a private battle, so does insecurity need to be fought.

So, with song, blade, words, colour and dance, I will engage this new foe.

Run, spirit of doubt, of fear and of old wounds. Something holy this way comes.

Roma Vincit Omnia.