When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

                                                              ~ John Keats 

Dear Keats. Always fretting about something.   

An exciting development this week! My dear friend Prince Rehman has asked me to co-author an intriguing work of non-fiction. It concerns a lovely chap - we'll call him Johnny for now dears - and a quite torrid tale of military power attempting to quash the little man. 

The pen shall be mightier!

Also, this week, I have received several invitations to join yet another ridiculous virtual social club.  These, alas, I must decline. 

One does become a tad weary of the social whirl here in Internet Land. Not least, of course, because there are no canapés! What sort of party is this? 

All this sharing... c'est n'est pas ma tasse de thé, dears. One becomes jaded. 

And, if one stops to think, one might reason how damaging this Quest to Share actually is. Contemplate the fictional scenarios - those famous tales one knows and loves - and see how this modern desire to bare all would be the death of such! There are few enough plots in life or in literature, but those which resonate eternally are, my dears, invariably those wherein mystery plays its part. 


How, for example, might dear Romeo and Juliet have fared with Facebook, Twitter and Google+? Tell me dears? How would that story have played out? 

Badly, I fear. 

Romeo would not have cared to know how many times dear, sweet Juliet vomited into the toilet bowl after consuming too much Vino da Verona whilst out with the girls. Nor would he have wished to see photographic evidence. Likewise, would Juliet really care to see how her lover "likes" that Benvolio è appeso come uno stallion?

No, dears. She would not. 

It is, as the young say these days, TMI (which in itself, ironically, is too little information for my liking! Has time become so precious that a person cannot type out 18 characters instead of 3? Alas, I fear I am becoming a Curmudgeonly Old Dame - or, as my niece might say, a COD). 

So, there it is, my news. One fears it may be a little rambling... yet one must, I find, take heart where heart can be found. As dear Keats also said (when not penning woes on his fear of unfinished prose) circumstances are like Clouds continually gathering and bursting - while we are laughing the seed of some trouble is put into the wide arable land of events - while we are laughing it sprouts it grows and suddenly bears a poison fruit which we must pluck.

Frankly the man was a few commas short of perfection, but still. The essence is there, dears. One must enjoy what one can, whilst one can, despite it all. 

And, despite it all,

I do remain, as always, yours

Claudette x