Life is What Happens to Other People
Once more we’re sat on a bench with a notebook and pencil - a few thoughts . . .
I’ve decided to sit a while, I’ve been walking for a few hours now so I’ll tarry a while. I rest my legs but not my mind and so, sat on a bench in Cleethorpes with glorious sunshine beaming down upon me I scratch away randomly as thoughts come into my head . . .
A lot seems to be going on in the immediate vicinity of the Goldeneye Dacha, all sorts of turmoil, heartbreak and disaster yet I sit here and it all seems to go on around me, as if I wasn’t here, leaving me an unaffected spectator - Life is What Happens to Other People!
The View From the Bench as I Wrote This
I see a life winding down but the settled order of nature is at hand to restore the balance as I also see a wondrous new person only months into the journey of life, smiling with all the joy that ignorance brings.
I see a bizarre incident which throws a family into turmoil and it’s now starting to feel as though I’m watching some TV Soap Opera, I know the people yet somehow I’m outside looking in, the eternal voyeur on life.
I suppose if you never seem to be involved in such things that are the tumultuous excitement that is other people’s lives then it’s little wonder you begin to feel like an outsider!
The concerns of others are rarely the concerns of yours and indeed my concerns seldom seem to perturb others.
A Stranger in a Strange Land
A stranger in a strange land is a mantel I seem to have adopted, I’m not sure whether it’s one I actively cultivated, albeit subconsciously, or simply something which has quietly crept up on me - either way I don’t seem to feel a connection to the environment I’m in.
But, given the results this life seemingly throws up being a stranger in a strange land is, perhaps, no bad thing . . .
Yours a sunwashed,