Odd Bits on Cares, Cars, and Christmas Food.

I was listening to a piece of music earlier and was suddenly beset by a veritable volcano of emotional reaction – a deep sense of anguish and despair upon realising that universal peace and harmony are so readily within reach of the human condition, but are buried by the darkness generated by the Golums running the world of mortal man.

The emotion subsided and logic brought much thought into play. It became complicated, and eventually I settled on the fact that reason is worthless without knowing exactly what life is about, which I don’t.

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The car I drive has suddenly developed two odd characteristics which the mechanic who owns the vehicle can’t explain. It’s making me reluctant to drive it, and that in its turn makes life difficult living out here in the countryside with no public transport.

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Today I bought my Christmas vegetarian roast, my Christmas Brussels sprouts, my Christmas mince pies, an extra baking potato to have with my Christmas dinner, and a rare chocolate and fresh cream concoction as an added bonus. (Cream has become anathema since the atherosclerosis reared its ugly head and encouraged me to avoid high fat foods.)

Why do I do it when I don’t do Christmas? I suppose the tradition of Christmas is simply the spur to prick the sides of my intent to do something different for a change. And I don’t suppose it matters since I don’t know what life is about.