The Cynics, out in full force this morning

In A post to keep afloat on December 8, 2014 at 9:37 am

Sometimes, it’s best not even trying to understand. Keep moving. Move on. If any of it is meant to make sense to me, I’ll know soon enough because my head will say so. Instead of standing at the crossroads and wondering if the signs have gotten flipped as a joke overnight, I’ll take one path or another and find out for myself.

I’m developing a strong loathing for Mondays. Something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Of course the cold has something (lots) to do with it, as mentioned yesterday. But not only. The feeling of pushing against a dead weight. An opponent of massive size who could swat me to the ground with the slightest shove but doesn’t – at least, not yet.

More papers to print. More admin, more admin, then, another layer of admin. Kafka. (They say no publisher in his right mind would touch him, these days. So much for people in their right mind, whatever that may be.)

So which one will it be today, Franz? For starters. The Trial? All right, The Trial it is. The basic premise: Guilty, as charged. Guilty of what? Please don’t muddy the issue. We’ll figure out the what, once you’ve entered your plea. Do you acknowledge your guilt, yes or no? Speak up for the court stenographer.



With the number of online petitions I’m invited to sign, I could spend my days angsting over the fate of all those people, birds, and soya bean plantations I’m letting die off for want of signing and pledging some money to the cause. Does a surfeit of petitions create a surfeit of indifference, ay, of cynicism? I’m starting to think so. How many good intentions can the world watch peter out without deciding that’s what good intentions are for?


Writing. Ah yes, writing. The Last Frontier.

Allez? The Cynics, yes. The Inner ones, in rugby defense position. Arm in arm, hey there, want to attempt a breakthrough?

Hallo, good morning, if you’ll excuse me, I have miles to go before I sleep.

They laugh.


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