La patria mia

I'm thinking about Normal Lowell. Not that I really agree with all he says. But he never fails to make me smile. Sometimes I laugh, and sometimes when it really gets bad (or good), I am holding my groin because it hurts from all the laughing. Which is not very nice of me I know. But I have a feeling he is a natural at drama and knows extremely well what he says and does. It's still not very nice of me. But then I must not be very nice. But this time I'm thinking about old Norman because perhaps he is right. Ok perhaps he's not right in everything. And I do not like the hatred coming out of Norman's mouth. He has all the right to be uncomfortable, but instilling hatred? No, I don't want that. It's not with the hatred issue that I agree. But it really seems that we don't have much time left and we will be foreigners in our own country. What I think twice about saying, these people coming from third world countries seem to think they have the God damn right to say. What would I do if it were me? Well, I certainly would not be keen to step on anybody's toes. But I'm suffering litter strewn on my porch every day, and I've seen the perpetrators, it's the refugees I'm afraid. I do not think that refugees should be overworked and underpaid. I believe that every living thing has a right to its dignity and that includes refugees. They make my heart break every time I see footage of them being rescued on TV. I mean, they must be pretty at their wit's end to board a tiny boat, leave everything and embark on a voyage between the seas and the skies. And it's only right that they are rescued because I would want someone to rescue me if it were me. Of course I do not agree with Norman who thinks they should be left to die. What is troublesome is that we're getting invaded by people from third world countries, and the problem is they're getting cocky, too cocky for our own good. If it were me, I'd just speak in a whisper and thank whoever it is who took pity on me and let me in. Not these people. Which also perhaps explains why people coming from ex-Communist countries were so hard to work with. Now I can be a handful, but these were so temperamental they made some people's lives hell. It really seemed they took it out on us no matter how nice we tried to be. And it's happening again. Someone just got their Visa and suddenly they've turned cocky, too cocky. They want to analyze us and say we have issues? Pardon? Sorry but it's my country and you do as we do. No more, no less. Because we're Maltese, and not Maltesers.

Bagheera ... my boy.

So the bad night is over. I knew it would be bad, I just didn't bank on it being so bad. It could have been worse. I could have been all alone. As it was I think I also wrecked the Mister's night seeing I woke him up at least ten times for the nebulizer/oxygen thing. But he's not saying anything. I am in a total mess. I sit here on my bed under the duvet, with a blanket over my shoulders. I guess I should be sleeping, but I have to write. The fever is not as bad as yesterday, maybe those little soldiers are fighting the infection. I like to think that they're not male soldiers in camouflage, but pretty females in tiny skirts and heels with witch they pierce the infected soldiers to death. Just what I think, I probably haven't graduated much since my cartoon days. Dad has been again. And I've warned him to keep away following his op last Monday. But I don't think he cares, about the fever I mean, not about me. He cares about this old girl all right, he wouldn't be going for walkies all these times a day if he weren't. He has also been amazed by my Bagheera cat. He thinks it's a beautiful cat, and he is also amazed that this cat doesn't leave my side. I don't know why. All I know is that I have never found an answer as to why this cat got thrown out of a speeding car in the middle of the night. It was meant to be, I never usually pop out to take a look at the street before closing the door at night. Turned out I did, and saw this cruel act. So I figured if he was thrown out, then I'd let him in. A black cat in the black night. It's been one and a half years now, and this cat is the most silky, adorable cat. His behaviour is so sweet and funny, he is lonely because the other cats dislike him a lot. So he has us, he's like my boy. But I still don't feel right. And I'm hiding the mirrors. I look dreadful. Now where's that Diva got to?