A Cynical Calm

For every wound, a balm.
For every sorrow, cheer.
For every storm, a calm.
For every thirst, beer!

Indeed, a lover that’s always here.
The wonders of beer.

Well, perhaps not so much beer, but I did enjoy couple’a bottles of wine. There is much to say about the perspectives a drink can give a mind like mine.

Realisations of a life my own that no one can really or would really bother with. I’ve always had a satisfying life when I am content. Ambition, covetousness, greed, even hope and expectations almost unquestionably lead your sorry ass down a road to despair and disappointment.

When opportunity knocks, open the door and let it in if you like the looks of it. I figure its best not to even expect anything interesting outside the door, apart from bloody salesmen selling toilet chutes and pairs of Jehovah Witnesses.

I wonder how long this calm can last. Perhaps it’s just the eye of some godly storm, and when the storm is over, there will be nothing left of me. Or what was recognisably me.

Meanwhile, I’m happy to note I do have something I can look forward to. Even after downgrading my mobile phone plan, albeit with a contract, I got a new mobile phone for a fraction of its cost; and it does come with all preferred bells and whistles. I’m just waiting anxiously it to arrive. Now that’s one of the very few things I can be sure expectations would not disappoint. I hope.