Pensive

I woke this morning disconsolate from a horrible dream. It was some sort of post-apocalypse scenario in which I was trapped, likely to die, and unable to get back to loved ones. An elderly friend died in my arms. Even as the morbid drama unfolded I was asking myself how on earth is this arising. I blame the news. Thanks to a continual exposure to world events and American politics (dominated by Mr. Trump and his shenanigans) my soul is poisoned. It feels like a binge diet of junk food and gummi-worms. It’s time to turn off CNN, Huff Post, and Yahoo! News for a more bland diet of Saturday morning cartoons on Youtube. I need cheering up.

At times my boundaries are not too watertight. Sometimes another person’s sorrows get to me. Like tuning forks in synch the world’s woes make mine vibrate. The worst cases are the dog/cat shelter commercials, for which I have no boundaries. Seeing these with the doleful music and lamentable looking animals makes me go into hysterics.  I don’t do well with violence and nasty confrontations; I am known to leave the room when Someone watches “Law & Order”.  He says I am too sensitive, and I daresay he is right.

When my aegis fails I often go to the bedroom and withdraw into the inner compartment of my mind away from the general lunacy of my fellow humans. I am not one to have a snort in these scenarios but a nice hot cup of tea and some comfort tunes are most salubrious.

I am not one to sleep when vexed, but I am tempted to take a Rip Van Winkle-like potion to induce enough sleep to wake up after election day. Alas, I would miss my favorite holiday: Hallowe’en. I must stiffen my spine and be less porous to the morass of endless gunge coming from the boob-tube.  Avoid curried snacks is my motto. This is expanded to include CNN.

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