trails of thought

A kindness which costs a life

I am sad today.

To realise your goal of the past two years was simply to encourage me to rid myself of my wife is a sad sad moment; a sad sad wheeling; a sad sad realisation; a bad bad feeling.

And it hurts me you were incapable of saying it out loud.

It hurts me to see that you trusted not.

It hurts me to see you were childish in the extreme.

It hurts me to see how you wished me to be shot – without ownership explicit – of a woman who has clearly hurt me grand, but deserves no such brutal treatment as if criminal of wars.

And yet people who want to … well, still they can reach me, all the same.

And as I sit in this Starbucks in Liverpool One, a kind young Australian – or mebbe New Zealander, or mebbe South African – clears the table next to me, as she senses my unusual sad.  For normally we joke and banter, and the communication between us – though brief – is nicely, rightly, gently kinder.

So she takes the decision to reach out to the caged animal the day has made of me.

Don’t tell me your cheap tricks: don’t say we choose each moment of our lives whether bad or good or good or bad.

For this is easy to say – but please let me point out a truth: some days are convincingly dreadful; undoubtedly so; unavoidably dreadful; unavoidably painful; unavoidably deathly; inevitably ending.

And so today this young woman’s kindness and reaching out has cost a life: and that life is clearly mine.  I know I am a coward; I know I am a man of limited means; I know I find it so very hard to sift the truth from the bitter PTMI-ed falsehoods.

And yet I insist; and yet I wish to deliver; and yet I aim to persist; and yet this must be so and how and go: my own ambition shall always outdo your paltry; my own ambition shall always outdo your poor-like; my own ambition shall always beyond your limiting boundaries; my own ambition shall always drive me to say and do and be much more than you.

And so even though I am a cowardice enshrined, this young woman may – this evening – have cost my life with her kindness.  And when I say this as I do, I mean her kindness has paid the price of my survival.

Of survival and alive; never the obliteration of an ignominious end.

Thank you dear woman, whoever you are.

Thank you for your unbidden kindness, this better today.


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