April 12, 2011

THE REASON(S) I AM AWFULLY QUIET

Over the past two weeks there have not been any developments that I would have felt comfortable writing something about. It doesn't mean they don't exists.

There is some terrible fragility in Egypt, in the Ivory Coast, the French took prisoner a former President who wanted to be that for life, it seems and instead may find himself to be a lifer in prison for inciting the killing of thousands... and boy, I don't even know what to say about NATO and Libya.

This shapes up to be so much like former Yugoslavia in the 1990s that it frightens me. All of the elements are already in places, and if there are any politicians in power who recognise those patterns too, they don't do anything about them.

Oh, yes, and in Japan things have been going from bad to worse for a month now, and I wish - as I believe so many of us do - that there was something I could do, something I might be able to do and help, but I and the rest of the world are damned to watch an update every day and feel sick to our stomachs at the realization of such helplessness.

I have been emotionally and mentally exhausted as of late. Gosh, haven't I said that before? Sure, I have, but it seems that you can always go lower, that the ditch can always go down a bit deeper. In a way, some of the people on Twitter have kept me sane, or at least sane enough to not break down completely. I like the idea, the thought, sometimes even the certainty that I can make some of them laugh. Such is the way of a performer, and a writer is nothing but a performer.

There are days when I feel infinite sadness. They have started to outnumber the good days, have even overtaken the decent days, and there's something inside me that wishes to let go. I don't listen to it. There is still time. There's still hope. It gets harder to find it, and it seems to be buried in so much pain and darkness that your fingers turn black as you dig for it, they turn black and ache with pain.

And yet, I dig.

Every now and then, something shines brightly, and it may be just a good phrase or the notion that one of my jokes made somebody smile, if only for a moment. There is still time.

There is still hope.

That this sadness may not be infinite after all.

And that all pain ends some day.