I am 60 this week and my brother – my baby brother – is 50. My other brother – his anniversary fills the day between our birthdays. Such perfect symmetry between life and death.
I am 60 and I am sadder than I can ever remember. The kindness of strangers is just about all that keeps me afloat.
The cruelty and the selfishness which seems to be in the air, the ether, the yellow smoke curling round the window panes, filling all the space around me – that is crushing me.
People who lectured at me and adopted lofty tones of wisdom and righteousness – at 60 years of age I look at them and almost none of them has remained that person. I doubt that I have – and that is another sadness.
Damned inevitability. Damned greed and lust and fragility. Damn the long game played by the rich who pretend we are all fools as they own all the houses and all the utility companies and all the cards and the little top hat. Damn the whole, shareprice fucking lot of them.
And Happy Birthday to Jonathan and me.
And Happy Birthday to G last month – I never did buy that Easter Egg or have the courage to send congratulations. Last month I was tempted – Happy Birthday x







