I’ve never seen a reporter hug a loser

It’s peculiar how people starved of affection seem to group together like bumping cars in a fairground.

If something affects one of them they all suffer – in silence. Have you seen them walking along the street. If one walks slowly they all walk slowly in a sympathetic empathy. They hate to walk too fast with such a weight of unburdened tears in case they spill some and a stiff upper-lipper reprimand them.

Soldiers on poppy day selling plastic poppies for lapels. Their brotherhood. Their grief, their pide. They are the most well trained, fittest, intelligent soldiers the world has ever seen. As a group, they try to control their feelings, from each other, from the world. and they do fine until they don’t do fine.

Animals might group together for the same reasons. They share a common fear, a common trauma, a common need for affection, for self-expression, for self-defence.

Children grouped together in the playground make their beautiful noise, oblivious of thought or feeling. Instant spirits. When one starts to shout they all start to shout. A healing bond group that new arrivals soon belong to. But yes, if a child has a problem that is too big for its head it withdraws and gets isolated and stays isolated – like I was many times. Because emotion is a language that is not used by their parents and professional help comes in the shape of mental health officers and social workers who separate, coldly, their experiences into documents.

I look into my brain with my mind. I have done so since I was born. At first, there was nothing in my brain and now there’s too much. But my brain works overtime at storing information; preparing, cleaning and storing.

Mental health professionals seem to think that the brain is the soul and also that to drug the brain will calm traumatic feelings. Humpty Dumpty because he felt grumpy was sedated and put to bed. Then came a white spider that sat down beside him and filled his brain with Med.

There’s a group of footballers who just lost a game. Like an ambulance full of analysts the reporters dump serious, accusative questions on them.

I’ve never seen a loser embraced by a reporter.

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