Staving off Morning Despair

I could be sitting here in January 1933 on the eve of political choices, signalling the loss of eighty-five million lives over the following twelve years. Since then, a further fifteen million have been lost in ranges of wars across the world. Instead, I am sitting on the eve of another political decision, the consequences of which bring only dread and despair.

My question to myself today is: What can a writer do with this? My personal aching tremors make it hard to grasp any upward heft. To where can we turn to clutch at any possible optimism? Denial, delusion, and deception no longer seem to have the grit to stabilise anything of this crisis.

During a previous personal dilemma, I wrote the following, so maybe, just maybe, it may keep me from the brink.

Read, pass it on and send me comments.

To Get Through Life

the following is necessary -

copious quantities of wine

good Bourdeaux red Chianti Classico

or Rioja Riserva preferred

a lot of BBC-type detective dramas

weekly TV tennis matches

some work that distracts

enough people who know

sufficient sleep

a companion for conversation

modicum of deviant pleasure

the daily treadmill

reams of patience

one new kitchen

strong fence around the black abyss

the ritual of memory

a will to go on

fixed smile

Mix boil and drip feed

Peter Clarke

4th November 2024