I found myself thinking about something a friend had blogged about. It referred to how the media vomits out nothing but “bad and depressing news”. This my friend says is intended to deflate the masses depress them and then point their noses in the direction of the chemist.
Everyone it appears is “in some way” depressed and so stun themselves with chemicals. This provides even more power to the powers that be, so they are able to hoodwink the masses and more or less get away with bloody murder.
perhaps you are right Sue, it is all the medias fault for these foggy eyed people, walking around town without a clue where they are going. They find the only way of escaping the doom and gloom that the media dish out every day, is to open an account with Boots.
Obviously there are those that “need” to take medication for an ILLNESS, I exclude these people from the above.
If I may QUOTE from the E.W.Wilcox poem, “solitude”, WHICH I am sure you are familiar with.
“Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all”
BASICALLY I am a happy man, I like a laugh and I do try to always look on the bright side. But, you can GUARANTEE that some arse will come along sooner or later and spoil my day. “Hang on” is that looking on the wrong side of life….
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it’s mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox