Friday, January 30, 2009

A shell-shocked haiku

Air thick with gunsmoke;
Ringed by distant explosions:
City under siege.



I am a nervous soul. I sometimes wonder if in a previous incarnation I didn't suffer bombardment in the First World War trenches, or some similar hellish artillery barrage. I am acutely sensitive to loud bangs and bright flashes: words like 'flinch' and 'cringe' seem inadequate for the violent physical reaction they induce in me; it is only with the greatest difficulty that I restrain myself from ducking, cowering, or spreading myself on the ground.

The nearly continuous onslaught of fireworks during these two weeks of the Chinese New Year's holiday is very mentally wearing for me. I've endured five days of it now, and the end is still nowhere in sight. Much of the time, I feel like a startled kitten who'd far rather stay at home all day, curled up on the sofa, hiding under a duvet..... trying to ignore that dreadful din outside.

2 comments:

John said...

I used to be the same as a child but now I love fireworks but two weeks?! I think I'd get more bored than shell-shocked.

Froog said...

Bored, yes. It's quite fun for about half an hour on New Year's Eve. And then it becomes one huge YAWN.