Walking the dogs this morning we came across a flattened hedgehog. It’s little legs stuck out from it’s body upset me the most and I bit back tears and carried on our walk.
I’ve no idea who Molly Mae and her philandering husband are. I couldn’t care less about an ex football manager dying of cancer when thousands upon thousands of people die of the disease everyday. I’m immune to the war in the Ukraine now as it continues on indefinitely like a lethal game of chess. I can’t drum up any sympathy for wars/famines/general coups and/or massacres in Africa because apart from catfish scamming it’s it’s all they seem to do. I’m bored of politicians who are either useless or corrupt or both. Backhanders here and backhanders there. Money, money, money. ‘Influencers’ talking about life and how to deal with it and ‘actors’ pumping their faces with chemicals. Freddie Flintoff crying because putting himself in danger did exactly the that. Madonna looking 85 with a dowagers hump and a young buck boyfriend she pays to make her feel better. Religions that have nothing useful to contribute to the planet but are good at keeping wars going, inflaming other religions that teeter on ballet shoes of precious notions as flimsy as butterfly wings.
It’s a vacuous syrup of regurgitated drama on a loop.
That little guy
I wish I’d picked him up and brought him home to bury in my little garden.
That little guy. .