Do you ever have days when the whole world gives you the Tomtits, when you can see no hope, no meaningful evidence of any positive change, when you feel totally powerless, completely useless, like a profoundly unimportant tiny cog in a great, thundering, smoke-belching machine, one that is grinding its way towards oblivion? Well multiply that by a thousand and that is how Daniel, he who, foolishly, would try to effect some tiny change in the world, feels today.
No matter how hard I try, how many times I polish my writing, how many places I put articles or make comments, I am having no real impact where it counts. The people who are pulling the world's strings would laugh contemptuously if they saw my criticisms, my ideas, my idealism, tell me to get a life, tell me I don't belong in the materialistic, right-wing world which they are creating for their exclusive enjoyment and profit.
But, of course, they don't see what I write. They don't care what I write or what any blogger writes. They are too busy working out how to make more and more billions from war and materialism, money which, ironically, they can never spend, or how to grab even more political power.
I have observed before that I think our masters are quite happy with blogging because, generally speaking, it keeps questioning, altruistic, critical people busy and isolated in cyberspace where they can't interfere with the real world, the one where, in boardrooms and cabinet rooms, all the serious decisions are made and the big deals are struck.
Perhaps I should go outside and yell and scream and kick at the silent trees, release some of the frustration caused by the frequently reoccurring vision of my glaring impotence, my failure to make any significant difference where it really counts. But no one would hear me because the neighbours are distant and they love that song: You Got Your Troubles, I Got Mine. Anyway, it's raining despite the drought and all I'll achieve is to get wet and probably break my toe!
There, I've got that off my chest. I feel a little better. I'll post it now and it will float harmlessly in cyberspace and perhaps my friends may read it and say, "Poor Daniel. He's got the Tomtits again. We know exactly how he feels. He'll get over it soon!"
And I will.