I think it is agreed by all parties that the prodigious number of smokers in the smoking area is, in the present deplorable state of the kingdom, a very great additional grievance. Therefore, whoever could find out a fair, cheap and easy method of making smokers sound and useful members of the commonwealth, would deserve so well of the public, as to have his statue set up for a preserver of the nation.

We abuse our planet like a toddler rampaging through its mother’s home, oblivious and unwilling to relent upon its mindless pleasure. This is not new. Since our dawn we have been a family fuelled by greed and competition… only now these notions hold global consequence; hunting one too many dodos has become the degradation of the foundations of planetary health, unfortunately invisible to the biggest culprits - me and you.

A friend once told me she doesn’t want to go to any group gatherings anymore ‘if a bunch of motherfuckers become mathematicians when the bill comes’ … and that got me thinking.

It is too easy in these modern times to cruise the internet’s infinite avenues of information; to scroll, and tap, and swipe; to fall victim to endless rabbit holes that produce more questions than answers: what to watch? What to read? What podcast to listen to?

Many of my friends have become vegetarian or vegan recently, often for environmental reasons. “We watched the new BBC documentary on how bad meat is for the environment” is a phrase I’ve heard many times. Personally, I am not convinced

In the World After Corona - that glimmering, nebulous term, like a utopia - having been forced to converse via webcam rather than in bars and restaurants, I predict that the allure of the web will not be as strong. Sight will no longer be filtered through pixels. To see for oneself a mountain, to climb and taste sweat and smell soil and rain and earth and feel alive will be a stronger drug.

In 2020 we have our close friends and family in our pockets 24/7, always available to chat to on Whatsapp or check in with on Facebook or Instagram, but living on a street where you know your neighbours by name and family are close enough to swing by unannounced for a cuppa is not the common state any more.

Since turning 40, which seems *old enough* I’ve found myself at a lot of parties. I’m sometimes there to photograph which gives me purpose and reason. But sometimes I just go for the craic. A dance, a chat, a catch up, a nose, a chance to observe the youthful avante garde in all their colourful and loud glory.

Hoping with hope, with or without squinched up eyes, doubles up the optimism power I think; it’s a prayer, without a church, but with a congregation. I hope with hope for a better world. It’s a massive and unwieldy hope, and a daunting one.

Sometimes life does feel like you’re Samwise Gamgee struggling up Mount Doom with Frodo bitching in your ear and Gollum trying to murder you. Mondays can be that grim.

I don’t know about you, but I tend to ignore the news once it starts to panic about flooding/cold weather/train strikes (or insert other disaster here). And generally nothing happens when I do. But today, I went out to the supermarket, and found it nearly empty.

It’s incredible to see the deconstruction of the stigma around mental health; but it’s important to remember it is a double edged sword and a topic that still seems to focus on anxiety and depression, leaving other illnesses still very much in the dark.