Misery Comedy – 18th April 2023

Not like Beckett, not absurd
It’s just as English as the word
The saddest laugh I ever heard

Rolling laughs don’t come from rolling hills
No pearly whites penetrate the mills
More bitter than the bitterest pills

And only laughing when it hurts
The summer wine no longer works
Born amongst the miserable jerks

There was a time when some British comedy TV became too dour even for me. Last of the Summer Wine and Only When I Laugh are referenced and remain memorable for their misery! I was self-aware enough to realise that watching these shows made me unhappy. I just wanted to laugh at something funny, not at something sideways.

Today I’m feeling:

Tired and useless. The grey of the sky is getting me down. It’s not like the grey of a cloudy sky. That sky moves and promises. This sky is dead. I woke up tired and have napped twice since. Everything feels pointless. No inspiration. No movement.

Today I’m grateful for:

My memories of Murray and myself philosophizing with our teenage imaginations at the bottom of the school field. We looked up at the sky and stars and had no idea how inconsequential we are.

The best thing about today was:

Finishing reading Death’s End. What an awesome book with big crazy ideas. Onto some lighter reading next with Michael Parkinson’s biography.

What was out of your control today and how did you handle it?

My positivity has fallen down today mainly due to tiredness I believe. My PMT or low point of my circadian rhythm.  Perhaps I napped my way out of it.

Something I learned today?

I read today that China has offered to mediate between Palestine and Israel in a search for peace in the Middle East. It’s difficult to imagine that it might work but if both sides can see the benefits of increased prosperity perhaps there’s a chance?

What place holds special meaning to me?

There are too many to mention. Today I feel like I am not living my life. My memory feels like a story I watched on TV rather than events that actually happened to me. The places in my memory are still there yet the actual places are not. They exist but are not the same. Sometimes it’s better for a memory to be repaved over with concrete.

I took this picture because as I was riding home from Utopia the mountains were more visible than in recent days and it can be seen how dry the jungle has become out there. The cows and bulls offered a perfect foreground.

Let me know your thoughts

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