So, I am awake. I figure that that is preferable to sleep. I am making the most of these morning hours as sleep on troubles me with visions of what might be. Other people will be recording this and other people will probably have outlets that will pay for their thoughts. My writing has move on and so have I.
I shall probably fall asleep again. A couple of hours may take the edge off my tiredness whilst the writing may have exorcised my machinations. There are possible futures out there, places that we could find ourselves after this huge hump in our path. Some say that this is nature’s way of righting itself. Fuck me, even at this late stage we struggle to move beyond the sweet-corn that Hollywood hands out. Others may suggest that it’s just bad luck, mathematics of inevitability. Whatever has caused it has managed a fine job.
Oh, and I’ve started to speak to God again. It can’t do any harm.
God didn’t say anything. Perhaps there were too many people trying to get through at the same time. Perhaps God is like Google. God is a superhighway that sometimes gets clogged up. People have been waiting in traffic on that road for a long, long time and they’ve not been complaining. Me? I’ve just driven onto the slip road and am wondering whether I should do a U turn.
So, God’s not available. I am travelling along on the back roads and peaking over fences and hedges.
This morning was a little thundery. A guy who I work with was up and about complaining about the NHS. He thinks that it is useless compared to other health services. No matter how much I explain that our own system has been run down and underfunded for a decade. Nonsense, he tells me, it’s always been rubbish. And it was the fact that foreigners came to Britain as tourists to get their operations done free of charge. We’ve just gotten over a hiccup in our friendship when he took up the cause of Brexit that was the will of the people even though 48% didn’t want it. And now he is proposing to sell the NHS off to rich insurance companies so that everyone can benefit. His definition of everyone is a little specialised. So, when I point out that people will suffer, he says that it is not his problem. Later in the car, he said that he found it difficult without the excellent guidance of his little support group. By the time we had reached work, he was human again. Perhaps it was divine intervention.
The milk of human kindness has dried up. Apart from toilet paper and pasta, the trawler-like dredging of has not really spread to other consumer goods. Baked beans have been hit and miss whilst rice seems to have been shielded from the public glare. Alcohol sits untouched when I thought that it may have gone first. Gees, what has happened to our Pulling Together Blitz mentality. According to my work colleague this has disappeared due to the dreaded thing called Globalisation. Globalisation is another word for foreigners. It is they who are not only destroying our NHS but also our sense of community; the devious bastards. And it is probably the same group who are sweeping up the consumer essentials and shipping them back to God knows where. Somewhere, there is a polish guy eating dried pasta whilst wiping his arse with the best of luxury British bum roll. Regardless of this second front, I have a sneaky suspicion that Brits have just become a little selfish, Maggie Thatcher would have been ever so proud of them.