My fingers drift across the keyboard, digits seeking solace, fingers nervous amongst the forest of opportunity. An alphabet aching to be set free from, the mundane.
But critics are waiting, You didnae write that, did yae? Did yae? Naw ye didnae! Importing the venacular.
Whits the venacular?
The defence rests.
Ting a ling (from the archives)
Stating the obvious, I am aware, however just how aware are we with what is happening to our planet? The Boris Broadcastig Corporation tells us truth we can believe. Obviously.
Continuing conflicts in various corners of the globe, politicians fanning the flames, but why?
Initially I thought that the digital age where everyone and anyone can be a reporter would help clarity and avoid manipulation of the truth, I am no longer so sure.
Why is it that an incident on the street, any incident on any street, has passers by reaching for their mobile video phones? To TWEET? Rather than help...
What is wrong with you?
Where have the thinkers gone?
It appears that to be intelligent can attract jealousy, thus is it better we all remain dullards? Is this is herd immunity? (sic)
So many questions, no answers.
Wake me when its over..No, wait, don´t bother, I´m better of dreaming.
It´s really all that is required
that little spark, like a rainbow crossing no mans land between reality and fiction, adding colour, depth, a strand of belief, swaying in the sirocco.
Maybe a short circuit, where the wrong wire was attached, blue,red brown, green did you say?
Boom.
Enough crazy for one day.
Not very big indeed quite small, an explosion in the surrounding sea. La Palma has sedate temptations, sensations, streets of persuasion, but it is not Ibiza.
I share this rock with an indeterminate number of bananas and some 80,000 assorted human souls, the numbers ebb and flow with the tides of a surrounding atlantic.
As I write, we are blighted with the world wide virus, although like any we have fortunate, natural barriers against this maurading plague, thus victim numbers are thankfully low. Another tragedy, is the forest fire which, it seems, has become a biannual experience, sometimes malevolent behaviour, sometimes idiot sourced. With these two un invited guests, people lose literally everything. I considered for a moment, the plague in London followed by the great fire, which if historians are to be believed cauterised the disease..could there be a biblical link here?
Of course the U S of A has the same problems, on a grander scale, everythings bigger in land of the mmmm ...free. Or so I was told.
Hot today, and of course the breeze just the recipe to encourage the flames ever closer, the church bell clangs its warning, the police sirens call us to flee...leave everything, save yourselves.
And we may have to.
For cousin Fiona and other readers.
Sitting in my little office surrounded by out of date technology struggling with painfully slow processors useful only for scanning the worlds radio stations...tech moving faster than me …..although might not be difficult these days.
Confinement, self isolating and self education the excuse for staying, well just staying.
Meanwhile I was wondering how many times a broadcaster or visiting studio guest could say YOU KNOW in the short and clearly precious time window of the BBC. So I thought perhaps a little counting excercise was in order .
YOU KNOW.
But sadly dear readers arithmetic has never been my strong point YOU KNOW so thus after the divesting of socks and shoes I ran out of digits. Therefore the sum total of YOU KNOW´S (I felt the need to use the oft abandoned apostrophy) could not be calculated.
YOU KNOW
No matter, It seems literacy is no longer a requirement for English speakers
DID YOU KNOW?
