A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVLFlkehGuU )
Good morning, all. Peaceful Sunday morning with a mug of East India Company's 'Assam' tea to go along with my breakfast. Reading the news about yet another famous person to kill themselves one way or another... Odd, isn't it? We rarely see news about the poor killing themselves, committing suicide because of their lot in life. Is it that the newspapers only report about rich people, or could it be that the rich never believe they have enough? I imagine most of us have suffered the very same losses; lost love, lost jobs, crushed emotions, our parents didn't understand us, etc., etc. Why didn't we become (or remain) strung-out junkies on a downward trip to nowhere? Maybe you have to be special to be that unhappy and self-destructive. I remember a line from an old Patrick Sky song called 'Nectar of God' that went;
'I don't like living but I don't want to die
Cuz if I die... I'd miss gettin' high.'
What a reason for living....
I think I'll go water the plants of the veranda, and celebrate living instead. I'll bring my tea with me! As TenaciousBadger says... "something more wholesome: tea"
Stitchawl