Wheel of Fortune
March 2, 2012 § 31 Comments
I suppose I was a complacent twat about the lentil of good news I received earlier this week. Last night I was flailed by a gob, smack between the eyes, of very bad news that is not going to go away any time soon. (It is nothing to do with planktonhood, twinkles or illness).
Was reeling in my bed all last night. It requires strength, fortitude, lack of self-pity, pragmatism and, in some ways the most difficult, love.
It is not interesting what it is. What is interesting is the wheel, and how quickly it spins. Wheel of fortune sounds as if it might be one of those big wooden numbers with metal on the insides, such as on a chariot or astonishing vehicle which may have transported the boulders to Stonehenge, rather noble and sedate and hinting at a certain natural order of things, and random, flawed kind of justice. That’s how I have always pictured it anyway. But it’s not. It’s one of those spindly, modern, Olympic bicycle wheels which spins so fast it turns into a blur: sophisticated, soulless, and showing absolutely and totally no mercy.