Tuesday, 9 August 2011

The Stick

We have a stick at home which we cut down from a tree in the garden 2 summers ago. It looks a bit like the rabbit from Donnie Darko and is imaginatively called 'The Stick'. We keep it behind the kitchen door and it's supposed to be used in times of dispute. For example, if the Wig and I were to have an argument, whoever needed to talk could only do so if they were holding the stick, like the Conch Shell in The Lord of the Flies. Luckily we have never required the services of the stick. Until last night when we slept with it next to the bed.

Being afraid to be at home is not a pleasant experience but sadly it is how I felt last night. I have never been violent ever, but I'm sorry to say that had anyone tried to smash into my flat last night I definitely would have used the stick. There was a lot of trouble at the end of our road, we can see the Pembury Estate from the front door and I had no idea what to expect when I got home.


After leaving work I was bombarded with texts and facebook messages by friends who had been watching the chaos live on the telly. Until I saw the footage myself I couldn't understand the concern but as I saw the repeats later on the news when I eventually got home I realised why there were worried. Vehicles set alight, looting, violent aggressive moronic gangs of people, all rampaging in the area I call home. I find it hard to express how I feel at the moment as I find it hard to talk about things I can't comprehend. And I just can't comprehend what is going on at the moment. I also have no idea how the Police/Government/Army/Whoever are going to straighten things out anytime soon. Life is shit sometimes, but a stolen pair of Reebok Classics and a Curry's plasma screen isn't the answer. Come and have a go if you want but mark my words, you'll get a gnarly old stick in the chops if you come anywhere near me.

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