Why Isn't There a Big Enough Band-Aid...

I'm about to do the thing I don't like letting myself do: write when I'm too tired and vulnerable to censor myself and hope it doesn't come back to haunt me too much in the future. (Not the first time I have said this - why is it so much of a problem for me? Because I hate explaining myself; because I hate having to justify why I say the things I say and do the things I do beyond saying, "This is me.")

Um - that's not even what I intended to talk about.

I heard some things from friends, I read the news, I haven't had a chance to catch up on sleep in a few weeks, and I've decided the world is a scary, terrible place.

State of the World or State of Mind...?

I wish I could do more...sometimes I find myself wanting to wrap up people that I know are hurting in a big roll of cotton wool so they can't see and can't hear anymore...but all I have is words and the accepted understanding that people have themselves and their own business and what the rest of us do is leave them be.

I know I'm not the only person to realise this but sometimes I feel like being amongst other people is like watching a building burn down. You know it's bad, you know it's inevitable, but you don't have what it takes to make it stop on your own.

I'm sorry, all those people who think I just like watching fire. Sometimes I think it's just keeping you warm, but sometimes I'm waiting for the wind to change. Or for a big guy in a yellow hat. But that's another story?