belief

33

Whistling a happy tune

I’m whistling a happy tune today. Not because I’m happy, rather au contraire. I’m afraid. Deep pit of my stomach aching with anxiety. Knotted and strained and tight. I’m tearful without warning. It’s cold and miserable outside …I’m tearful. Bailey the dog needs walking and cries, and I join in with my human tears. Why…

3

Why Pink?

Travelling through the Underground on Friday morning on my way up North, I came across these bright young things collecting for Breast Cancer, and whilst I believe whole-heartedly that they need to be out there, constantly reminding people of the need for more research into cancer – not just breast cancer – so that we…

Meanwhile back in the jungle

I’ve been feeling a bit blue this week. Unlike the weather. It hasn’t been blue, so much as it’s been grey- unrelenting grey – as if all colour has been leached from the sky. It was sunny on Saturday afternoon, but after that we have been plunged head first into winter. Yes, I’m still taking…

1

When it counts

How do you count an atrocity? How do you count the numbers affected?  You can count bodies or body parts, but how do you count the psychological damage in the young minds of an entire generation of children? In so many ways, counting the living death of thousands of Syria’s children and young people is…

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