Monday, 5 July 2010

Not Coping At Work

Nauseous with horror. Filled with wild despair. Etc, etc. Not at my situation in the here and now, but of the wider here and now.

Here is swinging on a rope, eighty feet up, at present, staring at a bullnose string, cavetto return, and a roll-moulding, all encrusted with black sulphate blisters. Calcium, exposed to all our pollution, air-borne particulates and acid-gases transmutes into gypsum, but not the sparkling spar one associates with gleaming deserts, but a cancerous black cauliflower textured growth, botryoidal in form, if smaller. Carefully I clean, chip delicately, scrape judiciously, brush with angry violence, yet concentrating for all my life is worth.

It is as well that dust gets in my eyes. An excuse for those strange, over-active, angry glands that spill drops of pure seawater, despite my best intention.

Where is hope? It comes and goes with each cloud that crosses the sun. It is not founded on logic or reason, this ghastliness.

I stop and gaze down through the empty air, and study the small teeth of the gravestones below. What am I doing here? Spider on its thread, or fly entangled hopelessly, just another form of hanging around waiting for whenever it's all over?

The others sense I'm not myself, but I fake it when they enquire with kindness.

Faces everywhere, tiny knotted ones in the black crusts, more swirling in the clouds, with the blank eye of the sun staring through.

Pained, resigned faces do not belong on young boys. I keep seeing them, and my heart breaks each time, and I am thankful for the dust.

1 comment:

Crazy Nurse said...

Insomniac episodes have their advantages; spending the early morning reading this blog in it entireity being one of them.

Sorry to hear you were struggling at work, I can empathise with that. Hopefully things will pick up for you again soon