31st July 2020
and gloom. Depressing isn’t it? Nothing’s going right. World’s gone mad, everybody’s out of work, nothing to eat and drink. I think I’ll just curl up and die.
On the other hand, the sun is shining (well it is up here on my Cloud, and I see also in the land of the West South Saxons). The air is clear; you can see forever up here. I can hear the pigeons cooing. All’s well. So perhaps I won’t die after all, not yet anyway.
But, silly me, I forgot. I died last year so I can’t die again. So I’ll stick with curling up and not the dying bit. I could curl my hair, for example. You see when you die, your hair still keeps growing for a bit.
I’m not sure if I’m not an oddity though. Yes ok, I know I’m very odd thank you. I mean it’s been 8 months or so and my hair is still growing. I think if it grows long enough, I can plait it like Rapunzel and drop it down to the earth. Then anyone who wants to join me up here can climb up.
Alternatively, as my hair is only growing slowly, I may make a couple of pig tails. Come Christmas I will attach some red baubles and have a party. If any comes and joins me up here of course.
Which may be unlikely at this rate. Which is depressing. So perhaps I’ll mope around and feel miserable and wail ‘Nobody loves me, nobody!’.
But then again, I might move my Cloud and get a new vista. Wales maybe, or Scotland. I don’t know. With a new perspective I may very well feel better.
Of course, the weather may not be so good there and I could be buffeted around by the wind (too many beans for supper). Look, I still have to eat you know. Angels bring me food, manna from heaven. I am very grateful to them, eternally grateful.
Hang on, I’m supposed to be miserable, aren’t I? No good being grateful then. Grateful for small mercies. Grateful for anything. Hate myself, hate everybody.
No I don’t, I love myself and I love everybody (except those I hate). There are exceptions, those beyond the pale, unlovable. Perhaps you feel like that, you are one of the unlovable who has never been loved. You feel ugly, ugly as sin (sin is ugly you know, like crap on your precious soul).
So I’m depressed again. Oh God what am I going to do? How do I get myself out of this mess? Won’t somebody help me? Won’t somebody dance with me?
I’ve remembered. Lyndsey de Paul. That song ‘Won’t somebody dance with me?’.
And now the band is playing very slow
And once again, I’ll get my coat and go
A lonely wallflower waiting by the wall
Without the will power to face the music at all
Please, won’t somebody dance with me
Start up a romance with me
Just someone to care
Someone, somewhere for a dance with me
I feel so silly in my patent shoes
So many partners but none of them will choose
A lonely wallflower, growing very tired
Into the small hours and feeling undesired
Please, won’t somebody dance with me
Start up a romance with me
Just someone, somewhere
Someone who dares, take a chance…
I have always loved it, but forgot about it until now. Loved her too as a teenager. Never liked that mole on her face though. But reading about her I realise what a wonderful person she is.
I say is, because as I look around up here at the other Clouds and the angels whizzing around, I realize that she must be up here too. But asleep like all the others in their cosy, fluffy white Clouds. Waiting for resurrection day.
People look at people and see the outside and miss the inside, the unseen. Lyndsey is said to be funny, sharp, and clearly intelligent. But abused by a father as a child who was himself abused and so on back up the family tree.
Probably back to Adam at the beginning who was abused by the Dark Angel.
The dark angel who was once called Lucifer, the light bearer. Lucifer or Lucy for short. Loopy Lucy as I am calling him now.
Still, that’s depressing (but the name’s funny so that helps). I don’t really want to be depressed and I don’t suppose you do either.
So what are we going to do about it then? Well, when I was younger, I would get depressed by all the worries of the world. Down and down I’d go, down down, deeper and down (hang on that’s Status Quo). And I’d be miserable and not much fun to anybody. Or helpful to my parents. Or nice to my sister.
When I turned to Christ, I found things change, my attitudes change. A bit trite, but I gained an attitude of gratitude. Trite can still be right. I also said to the Most High, the Father, if You making things tough for me means that I will be a better person, then do it, please.
And of course he did. Because, as I have said before somewhere, he answers pleas from his angels. So when I went down, down, down and seemed to be at rock bottom (another Lyndsey de Paul song) I would remember what I asked.
So I would laugh, laugh at myself. Silly boy. What did you expect? And I would say thank you to the Father, my Father. And up, up, up I would go. Out of the deep pit I was in. Rescued out of the pit, by my loving heavenly Father.
He pulled me out and we had a dance. Lyndsay sang ‘Please, won’t somebody dance with me’. Well , He did. And He will with you if you want it badly enough.
Or if you’re not even sure what you do want any more but can see just a glimmer of light at the top of the deep, dark well you are in. Even if there is no light at all but there is a flicker, just a flicker of a flame in your heart. A glowing ember.
You feel dead? Nothing at all? That’s ok. He can shine a light into your heart. He will strike a match come down to you, pick you up and carry you to the light if He has to. And He will, believe me; believe Baldmichael if you can. He did it for me.
On the other hand if you like being miserable, a miserable old (or young) git like I am (ok, not that miserable), why not listen to Noel Coward’s ‘There are bad times just around the corner’. Here’s a link if you want.
I imagine, assuming you have listened, unless you are too far gone, that you might be having just a teensy, weensy, smile on your face. Don’t overdo it, you might injure yourself.
Of course, the words are very suitable. Rats leaving the BBC!! Rats coming out everywhere. And the terriers are catching them all, one by one. I’m playing my part too.
So perhaps its not all doom and gloom after all, unless you’re a rat.
Or Loopy Lucy. And He is going down into the fiery lake for keeps.
Now that should make you feel better.