Attitude bunny makes his author laugh He fluffs up at the thought of a bath But his fur is matted with blood and gore Because he's been fighting the monsters of lore
Badass bunny owns a motorbike, A gun, a katana, and a dyke, But he's too busy cutting up his foe To let his story and character depth grow
I rarely get excited over sweets. They are my sugar supply; to be used carefully and enjoyed (okay, I'm not very good at the first, but the latter, yes). They are to be eaten, basically.
Except The Oldest Sweetshop In England?
I am positively DIZZY with childish happy squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Our sweets came in little bags of their own, and neatly backed in a box! And they were wrapped in bubble wrap and the outside of the receipt had who packed the box on it and THE RECEIPT WAS SEALED. Red wax and stamp and everything. I'm not going to let anyone open it because if it is a business receipt it's still the first sealed letter I have ever had!
*squees happily, and bounces*
And when you order them on the website, they have noises! Like the sound of change and a cash draw, and then the sound of a delivery van! :D I usually hate them, but they so work.
*sucks on a Bullseye happily* Mmm. I haven't had one of these for years...
It is Remembrance Day in November; at 11 o'clock, November the 11th there is a minutes silence. This is the 90th year. Despite all that's happened since, the iconic imagery is of tightly packed, clean white gravestones in french fields, of scarlet paper poppies blooming on coats across the country, of a commemoration so ingrained into our culture that it hs never been questioned, stopped, or changed.
But the tragedy isn't in the number of dead. It is the generation destroyed, crippled, made old before their time. It is in four traumatising years of a war that cruelly and abruptly ended the lingering Edwardian happiness after one of the greatest periods in our history. It is the middle-class women who died alone because there was no one to marry. It is in the war poetry, the desperate attempts to see beauty in a war-torn landscape, the lingering echo in words published and immortalised.
It is not that The Great War was a war, it is that The Great War was a war so dreadful everyone thought that if you looked back at it, you would never go to war ever again. Whilst no one can really understand the numbers involved in wiping out so many of a generations young men or the hell that was the trenches, that they believed that is enough for me.
You're a mystic, someone who's experienced God but found out He wasn't like in the brochure. You know first-hand what it's like to encounter the ineffable, but have a healthy distrust of organized religion, which you probably consider at best stufy and at worst an insult to true spiritual growth. If you aren't already, I'd recommend meditation exercises, or possibly yoga. One day, maybe you'll find Nirvana. Until then, just remember not to get lost in your own head! Thinkers you may agree with: St. Therese of Avila, Hassan I Sabah, Bahya ben Asher Thinkers to challenge you: Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris
happy