I don’t keep a tally, a cost benefit account, of the good and not so desirable sides of my character.
But when I am upset I am upset. That tight screwed up knot in my throat. When I hope no one will say a kind word because then I’ll burst into tears.
I am not often upset. For that I am too thick skinned. But when I am I am I am. Don’t worry. It’s nothing personal that’s bit me. It’s stupidity. Other people’s stupidity. It’s seeing people do a job so incompetently I don’t know what to do with myself. I won’t but wish I could bang my fist on the table. For fuck’s sake! Get a grip! I sometimes wish the woes of this world wouldn’t touch me. Drives the Angel nuts. As it did his father. Sorry. Do find it difficult, no, impossible, to switch off, blend the world out. Why would I anyway? Dear dear that awful slogan, yet – in may ways – correct: “We are all in it together”. Except some are on the sun lounger and order a fruit cocktail whilst the likes of me slum it. Baby elephant in the mud optional.
Anyway, this minute it’s all shit. Don’t worry. I’ll snap out of it. Quickly. Still. When something is fresh, is raw, it’s fresh and raw. A bit like peeling an onion – one moment you cry, twenty minutes later and a bit of olive oil it [the onion] is soft and all an onion aspired to be in the first place.