Life Is A Rollercoaster

Walking up the street today I approached a bus stop surrounded by police cars and emergency services. A helicopter air-ambulance hovered high above the scene, and as I got closer I saw the cause of the commotion. Ten or twenty onlookers stood around as a boy no older than 15 lay in the street. A car, obviously involved in the incident stood looming above him, a teenager sized dent in the bonnet. As I looked down at the boy I realised the extent of his injuries. Both his legs were obviously broken, his face bloodied and all his front teeth missing. He was screaming in agony as the medical team strapped him up. I didn't stop to watch like the rest of the vultures, but proceeded down the road deep in thought. I was struck by a sudden but overwhelming depression. My mind buzzed. After witnessing a scene of such raw violence, I felt myself drained of emotion and strangely cold. Suddenly my trip the barber, which just 10 minutes earlier had felt so important, no longer did.

I continued along the street, convinced life was in fact futile and without purpose, and eventually entered the barber shop, staffed entirely with burley Turkish men. I sat down in the chair and stared at myself in the mirror, still emotionless. I waited for a member of staff to come over, but nobody even acknowledged my presence. They all stood huddled around a small television, bellowing deep genuine laughs and pointing crazily at the screen. One of them noticed me and motioned that I come over and look at the spectacle for myself. I broke gaze with myself in the mirror, got up and walked over to see what all the fuss was about. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but as I approached the screen I discovered what they were watching so intently. Children's BBC, tea time programming for kids was broadcasting an episode of Shaun The Sheep. These four fully grown men and myself stood there, sharing the moment, joined in laughter as we watched a TV programme aimed at a demographic at least 20 years our junior. For almost 20 minutes, we stood transfixed, unable to tear ourselves away from the comical adventures of a plasticine farm animal.

As the programme finished we dispersed, smiling broadly, filled with a silly post-laugh high I hadn't personally felt for weeks. It suddenly hit me. Life is a rollercoaster, although it may dip sometimes, it always comes back up.

Have a good weekend everybody and stay safe. Fo'sho out.