It occurred to me that mood swings penetrate the nation just as they do menopausal women, an unpredictable zeitgeist.
I always roll over in the morning to say hi to the cat who meows in my ear like a baby, reminiscent of the mothering years. Then I fumble around for my specs to check my social media and mailbox for news of tragedy.
I never expect good news these days.....this is a problem. It needs addressing.
Yesterday I had put up a film on my family account of the kids and myself before things deteriorated into the mayhem of life. My son and I were in a loving embrace and my daughters were happy and effervescent. These were the memories that are lost in the fluidy waters of sadness and failure of life itself.
Life damages and destroys, this we know.
I was asked to remove one of the films as it jarred against preferred memories and touched awkward nerves for one or two family members and I was reminded yet again that the erasure of me is something that future generations will try over and over again in their selfish battle for supremacy.
Fuck them, I am an artist, I will not be erased.
Then, as I fumbled around for those specs this morning, seeking clarity through the cataracts of personal tragedies, it occurred to me that there would be a societal mood swing today, just as every day, and it would be displayed like a rabid rent boy all over the internet.
I wondered if it would be self-loathing, a personal favourite, or something more tepid, like attention-seeking. Either way, it would be dull. I decided to step over the noisy frothing rent boy and as I did, he melted into the ground on which he had stood so proud and he was gone.
© 2019 Pasha du Valentine/Goddamn Media