Tuesday, August 01, 2006

I’ve been clumsy for days. Standing up and half falling over as my spastic feet forget their spastic selves. Standing and dropping back in one un-graceful movement. Taking a step and tripping over. Fumbling with buttons and catches and all little things. Even my hair has been uncooperative and slip-slidey in a most aggravating way. Before I could leave the house today I pinned on and then dropped a broach twice, I nearly fell over my feet in the kitchen; I dropped the keys at the door and fumbled with the locks. I think I managed to bathe and breakfast but my mind was otherwise occupied. I woke up thinking of the economic structure of the Wombles. Yes, those Wombles. I was very concerned about one in particular as he seemed a bit of a dope-smoking slacker and then I became altogether too concerned about rubbish and keeping Wimbledon common in order. I don’t even like Wombles. They’re puppets, you see, I’ve never been very keen on believing the actions of something that’s clearly lacking a brain. That might explain some of my antipathy towards George Dubya.
Speaking of antipathy, the little man holds out for another term – I’m sure I’ll raise a finger in salute. Or perhaps I’ll raise a hand to the lord ‘oh why hast thou forsaken us? oh yes, that’s right, the unending stream of cock-ups’. I ponder atheism and suddenly see the light; I really ought to pay the electric before it goes out and while I’m still allowed it. And I wonder where I’ll go and what I’ll be when I’m no longer welcome here for it is surely only a matter of time. A joke once, of idealistic internment, of being sent back to the place of one’s birth – how I lose out there. Isn’t it awful when you know you ought to fight but the flight instinct is greater. There’s nothing more you can do here, play your mind tricks on me and see how eager I am to bite to believe to do whatever and see how much I’m lying and how long I can go on lying. Maybe for a day it’ll be okay. The expected news still feels like a slap in the face. How’s that for self delusion? I’m in the atheists bind – I can pray to no-one for an early release. Even my words are clumsy now.

13 comments:

Don Quixote said...

When you become an atheist you become your own god. There is nothing more comforting than to live and die by your own determining. As an alternative to praying you could look to your idols - the poets and thinkers; the various artistic diamonds from past and present.

TimT said...

What's the point in replacing the comforts of God-worship with the comforts of self-worship? Honesty is better.

I saw a woman struggling today to find something in the self-help section of the bookshop. Needing help in the self-help section, that's got to be a metaphor for something ...

Don Quixote said...

Not self-worship; self-dependence. People depend on God, but they should depend on themselves. There is nothing closer to the truth than that.

Shelley said...

What? No self-worship? Well, I ain't gettin' it anywhere else...

Oh, right, I see now.

Shelley said...

Not, incidentally, a big fan of The Truth. I rather thought it was what started all the trouble in the first place.

Anonymous said...

How theological. Still, I'd say - rather than people depending on *themselves* in the absence of a God (or Gods) they would probably find it easier if they depended on each other. You know, what with groups being greater than the sum of their parts and all.

Shelley said...

Yes, most groups I've been in have mostly been the sum of my whipping the various parts. Not literally, of course..

Unknown said...

I often have moments of clumsiness, usually because of either stress or tiredness. The last 'attack' left my legs bruised and sore!

Don Quixote said...

That's why I didn't caps the truth!

TimT said...

DQ, I don't think dependence comes into it. 'The Gods help those who helps themselves' is not exactly an atheist credo.

Anonymous said...

Oh that's freakin' bizarre, Nails.

Don Quixote said...

"DQ, I don't think dependence comes into it. 'The Gods help those who helps themselves' is not exactly an atheist credo."

The "Gods" help nobody - I'm not sure where I suggested they do anything of the sort. Hence, nobody should depend on them.

Shelley said...

Maria I'm planning on keeping mine and pretending it's a hobby. Oh that? That weird thing I just did, that falling down the stairs thing, it's nothing - just a little hobby I have.
Okay, so that entertained me...

Le Don I know, I was just trying to duck out of being all postmodern and shit regarding truth. Still, heeeeeeeeyah look what got the party started.

Tim...

Mark It's usually called 'controlling'. Sometimes 'nazi'. Frequently 'nasty'. And ofttimes 'bad-arse superiority complex'.
People are weird, aren't they?

Don Would a hug help? Tim is such a naughty tease, really, such a naughty tease...

Foxy Please. Start. Now.