The Shi**ing News

As I sit at my computer and look out the window the soft sound of the late afternoon (really late) birds (as in where the bloody hell have you been late) fills my conscience. Sometimes it's nice to have just the natural sounds. No television advertisement yelling orgasmic sounds over washing powder, no doof, doof or..doof coming from a speaker anywhere. Just the gentle twitter (very late as in I am throwing all your twigs out of the tree and onto the lawn late) bird calls. I live alone which is the preferred method of living, just ask any of my past or current lovers, family members or deceased flat mates. As a solo dweller and part of an apparently growing statistical trend I often catch myself with the occasional mutter. Nothing too dramatic, just a comment or repetition of a banal observation to remind myself that I'm not dead.

I have a view of Port Phillip Bay and every now and again I spot a tanker slowly trekking across the water stacked with layers of containers. Without fail, I can't resist the temptation to say out loud ' more shit coming in'. Somehow I get a sense of enjoyment knowing that the ship of shit has been spotted. In my mind it's filled with useless articles that will fill the discount stores with brightly coloured plastic shit that nobody wants but everyone can afford. It never occurs to me that the containers might be delivering lifesaving pharmaceuticals or more importantly imported wine. I'm sure they come in by plane, and beside that would take all the fun out it. Does anyone else find themselves making the odd random comment to thin air or is it just me? Perhaps it is the very first indication of madness or just getting old and stupid. What really scares me is that sound you make when you get up from squatting down, you know the oooppphhh sound? That starts at about the age of 30 and gets louder as time goes on. For now as the sun sets I'll sit here and listen to the sound of the birds chirping loudly, and throwing suitcase loads of twigs onto the ground.