Annus horribilis

How does one know the best of times from the worst of times? No matter how bad things are, one thing is for sure, they can always get worse.

I’m hoping that 2019 was my annus horribilis, a horrible year with some magical exceptions, so that by contrast 2020 can be an annus mirabilis, a wonderful year. With that in mind, I have decided I might pen some thoughts as this year progresses and lodge them here to see what sort of tapestry (or mosaic) they make?

I have no idea what rubbish is coming, in life or in the prose I may post here – so if you’ve found this content, or been directed here by my social media, then your guess is as good as mine.

For now I’ll borrow someone else’s introduction, the opening Lyrics of Kayne West on his My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy album, somehow it seems a perfect start and is playing in my head (all the musical emphasis included) …

You might think you’ve peeped the scene
You haven’t
The real one is far too mean
The watered down, the one you know
Was made up centuries ago
They made it sound all wack and corny
Yes it’s awful blasted boring
Twisted fictions, sick addictions
Well gather ’round children
Zip it listen!


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