I do wish that people, no matter how kind and well-meaning, would refrain from trying to get me to dance at parties. It doesn't work and its only effect is to upset me. Honest. Yes it's a problem and a far-from-desirable situation, but, as it's taken me forty or forty-five years to get myself this badly screwed up, it's not that likely that it can be sorted out in fifteen seconds. Unless you know a really good hypnotist perhaps?
I've just decided not to publish a massive, angry, mad, 1700-word rant, which has taken me an age to write, on this topic. It certainly said a load of stuff but, having read and re-read it a number of times, I've realised that it makes me sound even angrier and madder than I actually am, and is perhaps actually a bit much for the sensitive reader. (Or indeed any normal human being.) Hence this shorter and somewhat calmer version.
I should probably stop right now, before I end up recreating the unpublishable one. Vogel out.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment