Notes from the Wasteland No. 1 ‘I’ve given up.’

That’s it.

I’ve given up.

Given up completely.

I’m tired of everything being the way that it is.

The desperation. The despair. The endlessness of the inevitable.

The distance. The silence. The isolation.

The not seeing and not doing because there’s no one to see and nothing to do.

I’m fighting back.

I’m not giving in to the endless opportunities to always give in. To my tired mind up always seems to suggest a way out, an escape, an opportunity to climb out of something; a pit, a hole, a darkness normally of our own making.

Yet when we speak of defeat we talk of giving up which, I suppose, means (and I love to be wrong so please correct me) that we are relinquishing the opportunity of escaping by surrendering an up-and-out manoeuvre for a down-and-in one.

Down? In? Retreat? Withdraw? Include only you? Exclude everyone else?


I’m normally against taking stands but I’m taking a stand today against not taking a stand.

Not no more.

That’s why I’ve given up.

That’s why I’ve given up giving up.

That’s it.

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