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Monday, January 30, 2017


it would be fair to say that recently i have had a run of very bad luck - true much of it avoidable if i had been a bit more of a grown up rather than a fuckwit.
but hey ho.
hindsight is always 20/20.
bed made. lying in it. (or in my case: sprawled out on the floor - and no it is not because life is so desperate i am dossing on the floor. i just find sleeping on the floor more comfortable than beds, i know so spartan - so monkish).

unlike the song i have several more than a few regrets - but at least one of them is not being one of those arseholes who voted for brexit as a protest vote. oh look at us we'll give those posh tories a bit of a kicking in the polls. it's safe to do because who in their right mind is going to believe anything that iain duncan smith says?
who is going to believe nigel farage?
who is going to believer michael gove?
turns out just enough to make the world a stranger place.

then lo and behold the usa go and do the same. true their election was a choice between worse and worser - but to still choose the worst of the worst is pretty amazing.

still i thought 2017 is a new dawn, fresh start, clean page. a time to get my ducks in row, my bishops lined up and my artichokes in order.
a time to plan.
and plan i did.

unlike trump who has come out of the gate faster than usain bolt can lose a sprint relay medal, i have dillied and dallied, i dallied and i dillied.
while trump is changing the face of the world by a pen stroke or two the best i can manage is to make it into work, and even then in a very half hearted fashion.

strangely while i have a lot to rail against (and let's be honest what the world needs now is another barely coherent voice in the wilderness mumbling about how trump and may are cunts and the world is a mean place) i just can't work up the enthusiasm to moan, bitch and snipe about it. there is a horrid fatalistic acceptance. it is not just that the targets of anger are so far away (trump, farage et al) even the ones closer to home, the ones where i could possibly make a difference, where another voice, another argument may just be the tipping point that makes the breakthrough - even then i am all meh.

it is not quite giving up.
it is not quite acceptance.
it is sort of next door but one to those.
there used to be a time when i would think of witty one liners and crushing logical arguments to lay before readers of this blog (i never used them - i just thought of them), now it is all i can do to think about the blog itself to write in it is an effort too far.

what has spurred me back to this?
trust me when you have a semi sexual dream that involves donald trump and his award for the world's greatest cock gag then you know your sub conscious is trying to tell you something, and it doesn't matter that you may not fully understand the message just that you do something to change, something to reinvigorate, something to shake up the personal status quo.
scruff of the neck.
dust off.
socks up.
onwards and upwards.

so for better or worse i am trying to get back to here - if only to vent when i feel it is all getting too much, but hopefully there will be some considered pieces when i have strung a thought or two together.

fingers crossed that this is not another false dawn.

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