Small Enjoyments

Hello. This is what I live for - the little things in life. We have no money for anything more than that. Work and more money seems like something that happens to other people on another planet. Holidays - ha... Things people take for granted. These are more than I can stand to dream of. "Have you had your holiday yet..?" F*** off! Sorry, but f*** off... In this life of mine I take enjoyment from within my means. Music. TV / Films. Games. My cats. A little social media interaction... etc. Of course, my darling wife. My grown up kids. I am rich enough, surely? As rich as I can be. Making the most of what little we have got. I honestly think I would have the same mental and emotional problems if I had money. All the money would allow me to do would be to hide from them / bury them deeper - distract me better. Life is inherently unfair. We must do our best - or as much as we are able to do. This doesn't stop envy - of course, it is natural to be jealous of those who have more and especially those who take it for granted. It is also natural to be frustrated and angry at those in power who clearly have no clue what life is like for those they rule over. Decisions made on high, looking good, making sense on paper, in theory... putting these into practice will hurt people. May kill people. How many is justifiable to still make their ideas seem like good ones to them? Do they even care..? Yes, but not in the way they should care. they have no clue. I rage. I quietly rage; I simmer like an eternal bubbling pan of water which is hot enough to simmer gently but doesn't have the heat energy to boil properly. If I did... well, I might feel a bit better, but I know it still wouldn't get me anywhere... so what the hell is the point of that then?

Steering my life is like sailing with no sail. The wind blows all around me. The waves lap up onto me. The sunlight pours down over me, warming me, but not heating me. I take solace in the stillness of the Winter. The bitter cold, combined with suitably dark but beautiful music, can warm my soul greater than a hot August afternoon - why is this? How do I find comfort in darkness, stillness and the cold? Because everyone else despises it? Must be more than that - perhaps it's that in this false world it is more real. No shiny veneer, no sickening pretense and gloss. There is probably a lot of truth in that explanation.

With nothing to look forward to but the small enjoyments, they become ever so important. Just some thoughts.