Someone who I used to like, then didn’t like at all, then didn’t really think about either way, used to have a T-shirt with this quote on it and a picture of some despondent bakery items. Despondency has hit the bakery. I didn’t like the T-shirt that much, but I always liked the words. Think on.
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This is a guest post by Anthony on behalf of Janet Stones Counselling. In a confrontational move, thousands of people suffering from anxiety and depression are being moved from the therapy couch and placed in front of their own keyboards. After facing cuts in the NHS budget and high levels of stress and depression in the population, Ministers in Scotland are considering different ways to reduce the amount of scheduled appointment times. In order to reduce NHS expenditure and waiting times, patients who visit their GP with moderate symptoms may be referred to a new website. The online service will
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Today I feel exactly like this park bench, and I can’t even tell you why because there are legal issues involved. Sucks.
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Now, I’m not sure if it’s just that I’m deeply untrendy, or whether fashion has crawled back up its own arsehole and died, but there are some trends I simply will not be doing. Ever, if I can help it.
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We’ve had some crazy times with American Presidents over the years, but it’s been nothing compared to some of the rulers in ancient history. With the upcoming U.S. election, it’s time to take a look back. And let’s at least be grateful we haven’t had to live under the reign of some of these crazy guys (and girls).
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She was a wonderful woman – a loud, aggressive, rude, immature, caring, funny, maternal, vulnerable whirlwind, burning past in a Land Rover while texting and throwing a cigarette butt out the window. Unforgettable.
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Everyone needs at least intermittent contact with the big Out There. They don’t even have to go out; if they’ve already lost their sight, skin pigmentation and social skills from loitering in the long dark teatime of the internet, they could just invite someone round for cake.
Keep readingI am now almost a week late. No, not my period. I’ve been meaning to blog the Beltane festivities at Butser Ancient Farm since I went there last weekend. I took nifty photos of the wicker man burning, made my own twig staff with a star on the top, and everything. Then on the way home, everything kind of died. again. I can’t even think about trying to escape. The chains are far too thick. The Pit seems almost reassuring by now. When I’m there, I reach an altered state of consciousness in which I experience moments of perfect calm.
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