As I was walking over a grassy stretch in the sun on my way to work this morning I found myself wondering:
How difficult would it be to pack up a bunch of my gear and just fuck off to the countryside?
Because, if you didn't know already, this country (that's England, by the way) and the world (that's the rest of you) are going down the shitter. I sat at home sketching with the news on last night, and all I heard was stories about the death tolls of natural disasters, the rising prices on everything, and more depressing news about climate change. And to top all that off, both our country and the bloody yanks are still dossing about in the Middle East! Then there was some bollocks about breeds of 'celebrity' dogs, which isn't essential news at all, is it? Who gives a toss about yapping rats that poo in their owners' handbags.
Now don't get me wrong - I'm all for apathy and I'm an incredibly selfish person, so matters concerning anyone other than myself don't usually get me interested, but it's getting beyond a joke now, isn't it, really? When you can't watch anything on telly without someone prattling about endangered species and increased flooding and climate change, and you can't go to the shops without paying through the bloody nose for food that's SHIPPED IN FROM OVERSEAS when we have perfectly good supplies on our own shores (think about THAT for a moment), and you can't go ANYWHERE without noticing the slowly deteriorating standard of society - underage mothers, rapists and murderers who do a cushy few years in high-class hotel-standard prisons and then walk away free, unrelenting knife and gun crime, floods of immigrants - be honest, it bothers you as well, disillusioned children whose parents don't understand them BECAUSE THEY'RE STILL CHILDREN THEMSELVES, and then, as a final twist of the knife, some cunt went and came up with Big Brother.
Perhaps the best way to get this across is to use my selfish nature to relate my own situation to you.
At the moment, I pay £59.63 per week to rent my Council flat, and £37.00 Council Tax. That's NOTHING! you might say, but consider this: for that £96.63 a week I can get my security doors smashed on a weekly basis, share a building with a mentally unstable thirty-something with previous convictions for attacking police officers with a concealed weapon, put up with crowds of threatening, layabout youths who barge into the building irregularly to loiter and take drugs in my security hallway, get my front door broken up and all my valuables stolen while I'm out at work and then wait a month for a new front door, get rat infestations, and generally live in fear of the countless thugs and bastards that make up my neighbourhood.
WHAT A FUCKING BARGAIN.
It's a pokey, one-bedroom first-floor affair which doesn't suit me at all, but it suffices as a roof over my head. It's got nothing going for it in terms of location, layout or economic advantages, other than the fact that there's a bus stop outside. And.. and..
Do you know, now that I've written all that down, I feel a lot better? That's weird. On the bus this morning I had to work really hard to stop myself from snapping and taking a bite out of someone's throat, but now.. I feel almost cheery. Moving to the countryside hasn't lost its appeal, mind you. I'd still prefer to live out in solitude, with just the radio and my gaming PC for company. Of course, at some point I'll need to find a female willing to put up with my constant bitching and complaining, and that'll be fun.
On the subject of ladies, I decided a while ago that I'd love a girl who could kick my arse. Verbally, physically, mentally, whatever. I need someone to balance out my caustic nature with a healthy dose of threatening behaviour. A STFU to my GTFO, if you will.
Anyway, now I'm somewhat lighter of heart, I think I'll get back to work.
Hope I didn't take up too much of your time!
Love, Odsox