This isn’t a moan. This isn’t an accusatory assault on the pedestrian, the cyclist or the driver. This isn’t even ground breaking in any way.
I’ve never been a heavy smoker. Generally, smoking has taken the place of food and sleep whenever I took over a new pub, or a social tool whenever I’ve been out at a bar or club.
The problem with living a nomadic (or semi-nomadic) life is of course, money. The root of all evil. I’ve long believed that the trick to happiness is to alleviate the need for this dirty entity. I don’t think I can think of a single problem that doesn’t have its origin in money, in some small way or other.
So, society as we know it appears to be tearing itself apart. The push for unity that drove our forefathers forward appears to be in reverse. I hate it!
The quiet and the darkness surround me. I’m sure someone, somewhere, existing in a neat cubical, processing souls into faceless numbers, Their biggest fear being an overspend on wages, a dressing down from a suit who isn’t even aware of my existence. Are They even aware of what those pennies are achieving? Are They counting the cost against each soul taken, stolen, burnt?