Being Reluctantly Negative.

I’m being pestered from several quarters at the moment. I hate being pestered, especially by the corporate world, the government, and even our dear old NHS for which I have so much respect.

But then I look at the news. Oh dear, oh dear: the news… What do I see there?

I see tidal waves of anger polluting the planet from one side to the other. I see deceit, lies, abuse, grotesque political machinations and rabid self-interest. I see stupidity at every turn and from top to bottom of the hierarchical scale. 

And then I look at myself and see a creature gradually fading both mentally and physically. I find myself hoping that there isn’t much longer to go, while struggling with an inner sense that such is the wrong way to perceive the business of living.

So here I am, taking refuge in grey, tedious, negative words. I don’t want to write this stuff, you know, really I don’t. I want to write silly ditties and make jokes about people who live in Tierra del Fuego, but they’re just not coming. I want the future to have sparkles in it like the future used to have.

While I was out clearing the mud and dead leaves off the road grids this afternoon, I told myself to think of something positive to say. I came up with two:

1. I have no cash flow difficulties at the moment.

2. I feel reasonably confident that the wholesome and natural concepts of motherliness and motherly love will survive the unnatural ravings of the gender-denial movement. (This one came about after noticing that the mothers driving away from the school gates with their precious little cargoes waved to me almost without exception. It’s interesting that the fathers hardly ever do.)