There is a lot of shit going down in the world right now, amIright?
People hating on clueless bitches in bikinis wishing people a ‘happy ANZAC day’.
My six foot billion baby is sick.
Convicted drug traffickers getting shot in the heart. Their families forced to be theatre for the masses.
New South Wales being pummelled by Mother Nature and the internet tearing each other apart to see who is being caring enough about it.
My uncle in intensive care. My daddy going in for surgery. MPS with a swollen knee, sore back, too much iron in his blood?
Another woman killed by her partner.
Belle motherfucking Gibson.
I can’t breathe.
I hear the death toll rise and I see the ruins or the houses float away or the nasty vindictive words and I feel it all.
There seems to be no good news in the world right now. We are just bombarded with horror upon horror and I just can’t stop feeling.
I need to turn away.
Shut it off.
Read a book.
Wander around aimlessly and try and clear my mind for a bit before it all consumes me.
I can’t fix it. I want to, but I can’t.
Not in this state anyway. Sitting here with tears streaming down my face feeling the pain of the world.
Selfishly I need to take a minute to smell the metaphorical roses to clear the hateful words and visions of bodies in the rubble.
I need the good news story just before the weather, the lion cub raised by the house cat or the homeless man now an international rock star, on loop in my head.
I need to switch off for an hour, a day, a week, however long it takes to calm the fuck down and rehydrate. Cause I am completely emotionally exhausted.
And who knows, the optimist in me hopes that there will be a glut of good news stories just waiting for me to feast on when I switch back on.