At the pictures

We went to see that film 'Beautiful Mind'. Have you seen it? It's a bit complicated to explain but this bloke sees a whole 'reality' which is not there. You don't know this until near the end of the film. Turns out he's got some form of schizophrenia.

This set me thinking. Now, I have not got schizophrenia (at least I don't think so) but I sometimes wonder if my 'reality' is not shared by other people; do you know what I mean? As if, maybe, I've got the wrong slant on things. And that people know this but don't let on, because they don't want to embarrass me.

I decided to take a chance and confide in this to the tall Swede. To my surprise, she did not laugh; she listened, sort of thoughtfully, and then said: 'George, you need to get in touch with your inner-child - he is hurting'
She went on to say that she thought I should have therapy.
ME? Have therapy! Bugger that for a game of soldiers.

All the same, I have been thinking about what she said. A few days ago I went into town. It was morning, and I saw a group of schoolchildren being taken to the swimming baths. There they were, a long crocodile line of them, with their little bags and rucksacks, being told what to do - without question. And I felt so sad. And I did not know why.

It was not just because of my own experience of school: the Ignatious Loyola Preparatory (bring your own cane). I mean a bit of concentrated bullying - from pupils or staff - never did anyone any harm. But where do these feelings come from?

And the thing is, they did not go away! Even with the expert ministrations of the Swedish person, in the privacy of her own room. She gave up in the end. 'George,' she said, 'you really must see someone'.

I am looking in the 'Yellow Pages'