Growing Up is Nice and All .......

I used to worry that I could only write when I was angry.
The connection was a simple one to make.When I find something irritating beyond belief I will brood and brood and let my irritation fester until BAM it pours out as literary vitriol, and a sense of calm comes over me, the boil having been lanced.
Writing has great catharsis and let's be honest, it's better than what I used to do, which was self-medicate my anger.
Plus, my natural sense of the ridiculous means that when I get really, really pissed off, I always see the funny side.
That funny side is what has kept me -relatively- sane in some very dark times.
Truthfully, most of my problems are very much First World related.
I know this.

If I was picking grains up one by one off the side of a track in order to provide a meal for my family, my unbridled annoyance at middleclass narcissists (for example) would seem pretty damned foolish.
But then, THIS is my life, NOT that of the poverty stricken and I am aware of, and genuinely humbled by, that fact.
Knowledge is a complex thing.
When I was younger I thought I knew what having knowledge meant.
It was either this way, or this way.
Right or wrong.
These days my black and white palette contains a vastly broader spectrum of greys.
What I 'know to be true' has become 'what I know to be true as I see it''.
I still make judgement calls, but I partner them with some understanding.
Some things have become clearer to me with age.
I now understand that being content is more important to me than being happy.
I now understand that there is little that can be done for someone who does not wish to see a self-evident truth, and I am prepared to let that go.
I know less about what is right for the world, but I understand more about what is right for me.
I laugh more often and with more freedom than I ever have before and I suspect that this is because I have surrendered to the idea of being happy.
I like surprises.
Of course, some things still keep me guessing, like why a sexually rampant woman is a slut, and an equally rampant man is a stud.
I will never understand hypocrisy, nor prejudice.
I worry less about what people think of me, and yet I understand more about what they may see when they look.
I have come to accept the 'warts' oft mentioned in the 'warts and all'.
Warts are not desirable, which is why they are given to witches in fairy tales.
According to myth, you can get warts from frogs.
I love frogs.
I also think witches get a bum rap.
Given that we are talking about knowledge and wisdom today, a quick delve into your history pages will uncover the awful truth about female persecution and subjugation by accusation of witchcraft from 560 BC to the current day.
The books of Exodus and Leviticus also mention the evils of foreign women (i.e.: witches) and do their best to keep ancient tribes bound together by fear.
Once again, prejudice will suffice where no knowledge is available.
But back to me.
I mentioned earlier that I no longer feel that I must be angry to write.
This is a good thing.
One of the side effects of getting older and having a little more understanding is the gradual calming of my angry inner child.
Don't get me wrong, I am not about to burst into song and spread forgiveness and harmony throughout the hills.
I still hate all the stupid people.
I think nature should take them out.
I don't understand why she doesn't.
This knowledge escapes me even after all these years.
Having read both the Bible and the Quran looking for clues and having found none, I must assume it has something to do with molecular science, not faith.
Not a LOT of science in religious texts, but there are lots of spectacular promises.
I like a good show.
I am not a HUGE fan of locusts, and blood rain would be pretty damn hideous if CSI is anything to go by.
The showers of frogs I could handle.
Seriously, how cool would that be?
Way cool.
It will never happen; I know this to be true.
Sad.
Like discovering that Sea Monkey's do not ACTUALY wear crowns and carry a trident, I must accept that there are something’s that will remain better in my head than in real life.
This is the power of understanding.

I wish it had more sequins and flashing lights, but I'll live.

When I am not being an angry young woman, I shall become an amused old duckie....twittering away to her self and writing rude limmericks on public toilet walls.

That will suit me nicely.