Slow Motion

Slow Motion

The sheer slow motion of all our days being one day has moved a bit more into the foreground during these isolating times. It is hard to see, given our fragility just how we manage to survive a single day. Faced everyday in the bathroom mirror with our own existential set up, it’s easy to throw in the towel before you’ve even used it. On top of this out there if you could get out there is the spread of a very contagious form of idiocy. It's a form which first escaped from a right wing liberal illiberal think tank in the late 1970’s until now it affects a very large and sometimes even majority part of the electorate, destroying idiot lives while leaving the buildings intact.

In Girona at the very end of May I feel my slow motion is on the very edge of needing the mosquito repellent. Bed covers off - Mosquito repellent on is the entry about to be made in this historic city equivalent of a Country Diary.

The Sun, looking very similar to the one that hung over Stonehenge 4500 years ago has flashed a factor thirty sunscreen alert out in Ultra-Violet, adding the need for yet another unguent to be applied, to someone whose defences are at best paper thin.

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