And… I’ve done it again. Gone AWOL, off the map. Terrible week. No beating about the bush. I couldn’t really face the idea of writing posts on here, pretending things are okay when they’re not. I sometimes (correction: always) wonder what the point in having a blog like this (i.e. personal, rather than a book review blog, which I’m considering starting, but then I’d have THREE blogs, so…) if I can’t actually write what I feel. I’m too worried about triggering others, unintentionally ‘thinspiring’ people. I’ve written private posts, so I suppose it’s the same as the diary I kept for years. But what’s the point in writing words when nothing changes?
Sorry, having one of those days. So, in case anyone was wondering, hello! I haven’t walked off the edge of the world yet. Still here, hanging on. Going through the motions. Or something like that.
It feels like, on a grander scale, it’s a shaming time to be a human being. I know murders happen a lot. Even in the UK, although we think it remains a US problem, people are killed every day. So, the atrocity today of Jo Cox after the gun massacre in the US and Nigel Farage’s BrExit campaign poster, and the ridiculous horrendous violence of football fans… There are so many reasons to be ashamed of living on a big scale, as well as on the scale of me as an individual.
What am I talking about? The ramblings of someone who’s half starved, lulled to a stupor by weeks and weeks of doing nothing, living through a screen or a keyboard, not even able to read most of the time, concentrating on nothing.
SNAP OUT OF IT. That’s what I should be screaming at myself. But it’s the same as bashing your head against a brick wall. It doesn’t change anything.
Right. Change of scene. Curtains rise on a new set.
Reading Challenge. June 16th. Inspirational Read.
I can’t think of a book. But here’s a quote:
Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them. (The Dalai Lama)