Kickboxer 1989

Going through the third cycle of lockdowns here in England. One thing is becoming obvious. Those who were bullied at school, who still keep their sacred pain in a little box under the bed, are enjoying, if not loving, the Covid restrictions in society. 
Lockdowns have been neither proven nor disproven to work. But if you can whisper like Iago into the ear of the Prime Minister. Blow Joe Schlomo. You can persuade him to hypnotized the British public to stay indoors. If that doesn't work you can always fine them money they dont have, for breaking the rules.
All the grifters working down at the government think tank SAGE. Might like to consider this maxim. Beards are not a sign of wisdom. If they were every goat would have a following. Although Chris Witty doesn't have a beard. He seems drunk on the power that his little graphs convey.
The price that we are all paying for Witty not getting in the ring in front of his peers at school. To defend his adolescent honour. Is his dizzying need to lock people up in boxes. I dont know.if he has kids. If he has, he can brainwash them anyway he sees fit. This is the right of any petty tyrant who got battered in the school showers. He might even have a Celtic band tattoo around one of his scrawny arms.
And Friday night is movie night! 
Here we can find Chris Witty with a room full of twelve year old boys. Watching Jean Claude Van Damme in Kickboxer from 1989. Afterwards once Wittys tiny balls have been flooded with adrenalinalized man juice. To the kitchen! He rips up a pair of his wife's old knickers. Raps them around his puppy fetus fists. Grabs his best organic honey from the breakfast shelf. And pours it over both hands. Now it's time to grind those fists into the broken glass of some pretentious wine drunk the previous evening. Witty then licks a jagged piece of green glass from the honey. Screaming like a little girl who just ate a hot chip. He is bundled into the Megane by his wife and taken to A&E. Dont forget to save this NHS hero.
A couple of years ago I had a fiance. She lost a couple of debates with me and gave all my emails to the police. She tried to get me locked up in prison. She was like a female Keyser Soze when I met her. I saw her eyes flitting around the room trying to stitch the work of fiction she calls a life together.
Why am I mentioning her here? 
She was also bullied at school and considering her pathological lying. This is the only thing about her that I believe to be true.
She also loves to enforce rules and take away freedoms. Why? She is terrified of chaos and the world outside that she cannot control.
During lockdown number two I had to put my dog Molly in the ground. Now I am alone. I talk to people that I know occasionally but I prefer to strengthen my mind through meditation and reading. Its for when the time comes. I'm not hiding from the world or afraid to go outside. I sometimes miss the sea and the tops of mountains. Drinking pure water from Alpine streams. The bullied at school might want us to lie down in coffins and.wait for death. But I'm still alive. My heart is not a greasy black valve in a silicon shell. My heart is human. Red and made of muscle. Beating wildly in its meat cage.

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