of clobbers
when polite society comes loud-mouthed, self-righteous, self-important and crass, it makes for an easy target of revulsion and loathing. am rediscovering how unpalatable company is worse than no company at all. and to that i withdraw into my space, where it’s still punctuated by the loud bellow of elitism, broken occasionally by a warble. life might be teaching me the virtues of patience and tolerance, a lesson which i might not have learnt as well as i should have.
i wonder if a pot or a cleaver makes for a better clobber.
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