Why this Blog?

A place where I can lament the changing times; for eccentric comments on current affairs and for unfashionable views, expressed I hope, in cogent style; also occasional cris de coeur largely concerned, I regret to say, with myself.


I welcome your comments, so do please write. Please note however that all comments are moderated prior to publication. Whilst I fully appreciate that life can be frustrating, nevertheless, abuse, SMS language and illiteracy will not be tolerated!

Friday 27 July 2012



You know, it really is a struggle despite the passing of six months and today is a bit blacker than usual.

Many say "Oh, it's the feeling of rejection, wounded pride" and so on.

But it isn't.  It's the missing - and very often the small things.  I remember an occasion when we were discussing the writer Aldous Huxley.  I had never read any of his work; "I think you'd enjoy Antic Hay" she said.  I found a copy two days ago and have read it.  And just like every time I read something interesting, I want to talk with her about it, and of course I can't.

And there will never be anybody with whom I can talk in this way - especially a lover.

And this is horribly depressing and desperately sad and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.

Until the next time

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