Vineyard in My Backyard

Dear lonely isle,

Presently, I am a grape farmer.
It is a job that largely consists of tedious repetitions of duties and strict routines, largely along the lines of waking up at godly hours, procrastinating whenever possible and house chores, done whenever situation permits, which, fortunately does not happen often enough.

Then there is also the title of Garbage of Society to shoulder, and as titles go, with all the responsibilities to go with it. Thankfully, the title is not a cumbersome one, but the responsibilities of being society's Garbage can be daunting at times, requiring one to attempt to sleep till noon every day (weekends are a must, unfortunately) and attend to Facebook games immediately upon waking. Then there is also the matter of spending money and going out whenever possible, an article of faith to be followed to the letter.

However, as with any job, being a grape farmer can be hazardous to one's person. There is the constant ongoing danger of having to battle poor sleep and fats accumulating on one's self due to inactivity. Also, the chore of having to constantly file off the rust settling on one's limbs due to lack of use is getting to be vexing from tedious repetition. Being a grape farmer also requires one to possess a strong stomach to withstand the stench of brains slowly rotting as thought is seldom required throughout a day's work.

But it's all in a day's work for a grape farmer such as myself.

Harvest promises to be fun, I imagine.

love, Joyce.

Run

I'll sing it one last time for you
then we really have to go
you've been the only thing that's right
in all I've done

And I can barely look at you
but every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
away from here

Light up, light up
as if you have a choice
even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you, dear

Louder, louder
and we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak, I understand
why you can't raise your voice to say

To think I might not see those eyes
makes it so hard not to cry
and as we say our long goodbyes
I nearly do

Light up, light up
as if you have a choice
even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you, dear

Louder, louder
and we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak, I understand
why you can't raise your voice to say.

Run
Leona Lewis