Sadness

Sarasti is gone. After almost a year of spreading joy and light (and viciously funny extemporised lyrics) she is gone from our lives. This is not a good thing.

We can always hope she will return. These kinds of critical psychoses can cure, in time, and it may well be that Sarasti will be able to return to society as an active contributing member. But it will take time for the men in white coats to let her out. All that we can do is stand on the sidelines and cheer for her, cheer in our hearts and in our minds, cheer for her swift recovery, and hope that she will eventually prevail over the burglar pants in the fight for control of her sanity.

It is, needless to say, entirely false that her psychotic breakdown occurred as a result of my lovely new outfit, so lovingly detailed below. It is purely a coincidence. However, in homage to the lovely Sarasti I donned my new HawtSx® Outfit, and penned her a ditty.

It's called Sarasti's Song. It was meant to be a sad, sad, sad, sad, sad, folk song. Sad. I think I said that already. But it didn't really turn out that way. Happy melodies kept intruding, and although I tried to keep them out, they would not be denied. So eventually I just let them have their way, and they played around a little before departing in a blaze of major brass. Ah well, it could have been worse. I think.

But my Fool insists that he be allowed to be serious. He will miss Sarasti. He hopes to see her again when other far realms let her go. And he'll be thinking of her at every single BBB concert.