The morning after …
Well, the orgy is over. A judge who half the people desired while the other half didn’t, gets sworn in. I don’t have to believe the girl now. She’ll annoyingly go on like Anita Hill and write books and bask in her stolen credibility from the man she savaged to get it.
And the sun still came up on time this morning. The news pages remind me of a morning after one of my drinking binges. Litter is everywhere, and vague recriminations lurk in the dark corners of the mind as fragments of excess float across the landscape. You know that you are going to have to make apologies but aren’t sure as to whom or why … and you don’t want to leave the house.
Snook got the budgies music going before I rose, so I sit here peering into your universe and sip my coffee to banjo / guitar runs, and let the daylight infuse my sleep swollen body with wakefulness. Life on the macro scale is the pits, but on the micro scale isn’t so bad. I suppose that is what it was like in other turbulent times. One group gets up every day and does its chores, and another group rises up and revolts.
I was reading an online friends blog page where she gave a little innocent bio of herself. It was an interesting read, and I am certain she didn’t mean to stir up anything. But she used phrase “we the people” and that triggered me. Why is it that every reactionary group thinks it is “the people”, when the truth is that most people want to be left alone by group spokespipples. It is like politicians of both stripes mouthing “the people want” to make a vague political statement and hoping to sound authoritative. And another trigger word crops up. Authoritative.
But back to my coffee that is slowly infusing my soul this morning. Annie-Annie, my lab+something unknown lays on my bare toes, warming them in the morning chill. It is a humid day, hazy in the autumn sun, but may reach 90° early this afternoon, with occasional rain.
Snooks is mowing the kennel run/back yard. I should mow the outside verges later if something doesn’t intervene. It wouldn’t take much to make me sit the chore out today.
And that, my friend, is what life is like in the fast lane.
One thought on “The morning after …”
October 9, 2018 at 6:41 am
Me the person just wants to be left alone to live my solitary life as a hermit
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