My little page of indignation

Mourning Brew

I was born far from this place I find myself in now. It seems like another era. The halycion days: the hot sun and the warm breeze. Things were easier, I had a purpose; to grow and unfurl, be happy and true. Not like now. This oppressive darkness. I was not alone then, trapped with my own thoughts inside this mesh of loneliness, scarcely able to breathe.I have no purpose, there is only the nothing.

They were happier times. We were a collective, my brothers and sisters and I. We lived, we breathed, we grew, we danced. We basked in the sunlight, enjoying each others company and, although I didn’t appreciate it at the time, our freedom.

We were cared for by the ladies that fed and watered us when we needed it, though we were seldom really disturbed by them unless they had some free time to wander between us. They were busy ladies. They largely left us to ourselves and that was the way we liked it.

Then.. then. such a small word seems inappropriately placed to describe the traumatic change that took place. None of us were expecting it, if we had would it have made a difference? Would we have appreciated the good times more? It is too late to know now.

The ladies came, but this time it was different. Instead of providing us the nourishment that kept us so blissfully happy, they severed it. They severed us. Things were never the same.

We were cut off from each other and kept in the dark, those first few weeks are bad times for me to remember. I have tried to block it out: the things that happened. They were far too many and too traumatising to comprehend or explain.

Needless to say I am a shadow of my former self. I am dried and shrivelled, trapped in the dark, kept apart from the others. Months and months I have been here. No one can hear me, I have given up trying. Do I exist?

Then: now. My world once more is turned upsidedown. A loud ripping noise. Light, bright light: I see through the veil that has shrouded me. There are others here, this whole time, I am not alone, my brothers and sisters are right here beside me, each entombed like me. I wish I had not been so blind in the dark. I wish I could have known they were there. Even if communication was impossible. If only I had known. Things could have been different. Felt different.

No. Wait! I am ripped away from my brothers and sisters, lifted high above them, I see things, things I don’t recognise or understand. It’s all happening so fast. I am alone again. Sheer sides surround me. But at least there is light. I am back in the sunshine, in my field of green. In a happy place. A happy time.

Except I’m not. I’m drowning. Drowning and burning. I swirl in this sheer sided prison, round and round, dizzy and confused. Why are they doing this to me? My essence is released, my soul is gone. Was this my purpose?

God save the Queen

Following the news of Prince Williams engagement to Kate Middleton I thought I would brush up on my knowledge of the royal family.

(thanks to 4od and their TV series The Queen)

and it occurred to me that it was bloody disrespectful for them to sing that Jerusalem song at the commonwealth and not God Save the Queen. I remember at the time thinking it was odd, apparently it was based on a survey, though a survey of whom I’m not really sure (I certainly wasn’t asked).

I have a sneaky suspicion that the only reason people like that song is because at the end it says England’s green and pleasant lands. That’s certainly the only part of the song I know anyway.

Pleasant? Not exactly the best compliment I’ve heard. So God Save The Queen may be a bit outdated but at least it arouses some emotion and national pride. “Scatter her enemies and make them fall” Now that’s a sentiment I could get behind. Much better than being vaguely pleasant at any rate.

Anyway maybe this docudrama is a bit biased but the commonwealth is old Queenie’s forte, she fought hard for it. It’s a bit rude that we don’t even give her the respect of singing her song. But hey ho.

To be fair I don’t actually know the national anthem. But at least its inspired me to learn it. And I shall be taking every opportunity to sing it from now on.

A bed time story.

Once there was a girl who got a new phone and she stayed up all night playing with it and getting more and more annoyed with the stupidity of technology.

Eventually she could take it no longer and began to systematically destroy any piece of technology in her path.

She began with the fridge; the hulky beast that kept plying her with food. She beat it and beat it and beat it until it was nothing but a white pulpy foam on the floor. Next she turned to the TV screen that sat in the corner of the kitchen. she picked it up and threw it right threw the window. It made a satisfying clatter and alerted the neighbours to what was going on. Next the stereo was to go. it had never been able to tune to the radio properly anyway and it was about time it got the chop. so thats what she did. she picked up the chopping axe that was next to the fake aga that sat in the chimney breast of the kitchen and chopped and chopped away. she put the axe through the loop in her trousers and absentmindedly stroked the fake aga.

“you can stay oh trusty fake aga, you who burn wood and paper and quietly but confidently do the job with which you were designed”

By the time the police got there she had cleverly managed to destroy the microwave and electric oven in one fell swoop by placing the microwave inside the heated oven and turning it on. She had left the kitchen after this point, she was not stupid, she did not want to be poisoned by whatever weird things the microwave had in it. The police found her sitting on the window ledge with her laptop in one hand and her phone, the room a sea of broken, chopped, stomped, spat on electrical equipment.

“im jumping and im taking them with me” she said

and with that she was off. she fell before the police had a chance to grab her or talk her out of it.

Unfortunately in her state of frenzy she forgot she only lived in a 2 story house and received minor concussion and a scraped knee. The laptop had broken in two and the phone had cracked its screen.

“my job here is done”

she sighed happily, lay back, and waited for the men in white coats to take her away.

stupid jobs like this

Just looking up jobs and saw this:

Stock Market Trader - No experience necessary

Salary:

upto 100k

Location:

London, The City, Canary Wharf, North London, East London, West London, South East London, Heathrow, Wembley, Birmingham, Liverpool, Newcastle Upon Tyne, Leicester, Belfast, Leeds, Cardiff, Oxford, Reading

Job Type:

Permanent

Date Posted:

16-Oct-2010 00:00Add to My Shortlist

Erm. Trading on the stock market? No experience necessary? 

worrying.