Most of our consciousness is consumed with thoughts of stuff, isn't it? Cars, houses, clothing, investments, bills, dinner, ad nauseam. Much of the rest goes towards mortality in one sense or another, ours or someone else's.
All the rest is the good part, the joie de vivre.
The healthy mind wanders towards the gutter I suppose.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.
Is there a sadder sound than the song of a flock of seagulls? Maybe. I've never heard it.
Some of the eras of great art preceded the major wars. The joy expressed when peace returned to a land always lasted until it began to fade with treaties in shreds.
Now, war is perpetual. How much is due to profit? Who knows.
They taught me about the Crusades in school. Not much.
When you watch the religion that you grew up with appropriated for greed and power, there's a special kind of heartbreak unleashed.
When immigrants and the poor and people of color are villainised while jerks who have amassed vast fortunes are lionised, my world seems to wobble on its axis.
Is there a sadder sight than democracy being replaced like yesterday's skirt length by tyrants and despots? Maybe. I've never seen it.
In my lifetime, capitalism was mostly good.... until the rich decided they needed the crumbs, the scraps. Oh, well.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war. Seems almost trite now, compared to when Lottie first told me. Means more to me than ever.
At this stage, every trip to the USA is likely to be my last. Fortunately, my memories are re-enforced with kindness and sweet interaction with friends, old and new. Of course I fret about the ones that I didn't get to see this time 'round.
Back home in England, life is quiet. Enchanting and quiet.
