It Seems

As if all my life I have avoided anything, everything I dislike and distrust, I don't know when I began I only know its been a part of me for as long as I can remember.

I don't obsessively clean, polish and sweep I equally obsessively won't touch anything or place I dislike. At work the hated task was always the last thing on my to do list and it could stay there days, weeks before I'd even look at it. At home, well, it never happened at home until I moved to Ireland but since a couple of years after my arrival it has been full on. Don't touch, don't clean, like the rest of the country let it rot around me.

I don't write flowery poems or reams of adventures there's actually not that much adventure in a bog and there are relatively few flowers particularly in my garden which is something else I stopped working on within a few years of moving here.

I can't see the point and I can't stand the feel. Almost the only things I do are feed cats, dogs and me. maybe its a breakdown but if it is the tendency was always there or perhaps the breakdown settles on the weakest point and strengthens it? I don't know and I don't care. I don't touch.