There’s
some nice window-rattling and rib-shaking bass pounding going on
right now, thanks to the upstairs neighbour. Oh, no offence to them,
it’s sort of de rigueur practice around here to blast your way
across the airwaves at any time of day or night. Why just listen to
music? Why not force it on everyone within a forty mile radius? And
why be restricted to just one song? How
much better if you can have five or six conflicting melodies, or in
the case of the shit that’s currently playing, conflicting bass,
dinning. I’m in another land, where the culture, as it’s been described
to me, and using the term very loosely, is like this. This is an
expression of something, so I’ve been told, and I must be
respectful of their different take on things. Mmmmm. I’m in their
country, after all.
Yes,
I am. What crap. Crap is crap. And it is impossible to think, or
talk above the noise. It’s also impossible to walk down the street
in peace. It’s like being constantly assaulted. And I am
beginning to resent it very much. I even resent the animals, the dogs
lying like dead things in the middle of the streets, the garbage that
is strewn around, the dust, the moronic
roosters. I mean, I like nature, but birds make a lovely sound, and
these creatures are simply stupid, and obnoxiously repetitive. It’s got to affect your outlook
on life.
So
obviously, I don’t belong. And I shouldn’t complain. Respect,
after all. And my own sanity, which requires that I leave, and find
something more closely resembling intelligence. Where would that be,
I wonder, what with the world in the state it is. I despair of finding
a place or people, and minds that I can enjoy. But
having
despaired, I must say that I just had a lovely glass of champagne
with my neighbour and a friend of hers, and that was a relief, except
that we had to scream over the attendant “music” of the
surrounding area.
Is
it just me? Am I somehow throwing myself into situations and contacts
that will never satisfy me? Is it some old and repressed idea of
myself that insists that I be unhappy, and never find the ground I
want; never grow the way I should? Do I believe, under all the
freedom and learning that I’ve had, that I don’t deserve better?
Well, screw that. Or give me another drink. Or find me a job. Or get me a gig. Or let one of my songs go viral. Or, or....shet ma mouth
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| what i need to clear my mind |
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| my despairing self |
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| my champagne-sharing and saviour/neighbour kathy |
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