This turmoil stirs a rage within me. I remind myself that racists, their minds trapped in the shadows, are lesser-developed beings, with a reptilian brain, walking upside down.
My mind wanders... It clings to the beacon of the NHS-a symbol of hope in these trying times in Britain. A temporary balm to soothe... an imprint left from the repetitive news outlets.
A reminder... there is still one positive left in the UK. I surrender and escape to an NHS patriotic daydream: glitter and pink clouds, juxtaposed with X-rays.
I have constructed an NHS musical in my head,
while the news blasts another morbid announcement of how our--- (is it mine? Do they hate me too?)
country is failing (again). The newsreader emphasised that last word in his head.
Perhaps there is more to be proud of... (Marmite and salt and vinegar crisps...) My mind wandered to universities, but no, that one is down too.
Democracy is solid, like the fists beating this man up unfairly...
Those clinging to the lost empire live in a state of misery, unable to grasp its true complexity. The urge to lash out on social media will not heal wounds. I remind myself not to descend into the mindset. The reprogramming...Shouting on social media won’t change anything.
NOISE,
NOISE-just angry noise---- from so many. A toddler slams its spoon in tantrum, yet they are adults on keyboards glued to phones. Suppressed in reality, liberating their pain into the virtual spaces of X. I ask, is that virtual space alive, then, by their very contributions?
I do not know. I do not have the answers. "God bless the NHS".
~X.Helmi
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