Canapes

I keep thinking how unimportant most worries are. Not unimportant in the sense that they are trivial and therefore not worth the worry, I just mean - have any of us been through anything that completely destroyed us?

Chances are if we're sitting here now we've all of us survived the most awful things. Bankruptcy, loss, violence, humiliation - all of us have had, if not The Real Deal, then a taster. A canape of disaster, if you like.

Life wanders around like a waiter at a party offering up such delights on a silver platter. Some good ones, some bad. If we decide we want to play then we take one, never knowing which is which.

Hmmmm. Tonight I had love, loss, social humiliation and an STD. What did you get?

Some of us have been down to visit Rock Bottom. Hit it and then stayed down there for a while, of that I have no doubt. But if you're here now then I think you managed to climb back out again.

It scares me more than I can put into words the fact that I have not yet experienced that much turbulance.

Give it time, Chuck, I hear someone mutter in the back. Yeah, I know, my time will come.

I'll be passed on the baton of bad luck. Of grief. Of anger. I'm ready. I don't want to do it, but I'm ready. We all have to play our part in the relay race of life.

But wait. What is this?

It pulls at my sleeve like a small child. What's that you're saying, Kiddo? That's right. I lost someone. Yeah, true. I've felt anger. Touche. I want my father back. Yep. I want to crawl up onto the hightest ledge I can find to escape being the girl who grew up envious of the friends who had fathers.

Even at 29 I get viciously jealous of my female friends who still have fathers. I want what you have, get out of my way. Give me that. So you're not nearly as cool as my dad was. No matter. Do you have a slightly rough, slightly velvety cheek I can press my lips against? You're in.

Why the hell can't people appreciate each other? I know I'm naive and childish because I still believe we can save ourselves with kindness. I want people to smile and greet each other of a morning. I want all wars to cease right now. I want terrorists to put down their detonators and go bake some muffins instead.

What conflict could be so bad that is couldn't be solved by a nice piece of Angel's food cake?

Why don't people actually look at other people and see? So bitterness gets in the way. Why? Sarcasm and betrayal and meaness. Let it go.

I want my father back and that will never be. I will never be rowed out to sea in a dinghy, wearing a bright red swimsuit. I'll never get a late night phone call for no reason.

Yes, I am bloody angry.

I want an Old Man to take the piss out of as he loses his faculties. I want someone to roll my eyes at in embarrassment. I want to be told useless facts by the Old Man that I'll never fully appreciate.

The scribblings of a spoilt twenty-something? No doubt. But can't people see? That's exactly want I want to be sometimes. A foot stamping, screaming toddler with my Shirley Temple curls bobbing in time to my fury.

If there was an angry tree I would kick it until I was crushed by an avalanche of angry fruit.

Life is not fucking fair and because of that we need to stop worrying. Most of these nasty things didn't kill us. Won't kill us.

Tomorrow is a new day and there is no doubt that no matter what keeps us awake at night, the world will still be turning.

(If there was a point in this post somewhere, it got lost. Sorry.)