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History is actually repeating itself.

As you move through your working life, indeed life in general, it can become harder and harder to listen and watch younger colleagues struggling and striving with many of the same things we did and coming up with similar solutions, perhaps this time with different names and not say or to think: 'done that', 'been there', 'tried that'. It's not always true that 'what goes around comes around', wearing different clothes or not. But sometimes, even often, it seems to feel like it.

'History is actually repeating itself.' So my history teacher told me everything that is done has been done before. Everything new and exciting is someone else’s cast off, lying on the floor. You know what, I fought that, I hate that, because life’s surely much more. But here I am watching life happen standing next to the revolving door.

I get excited when it breaks, and people can’t get out and they panic a bit. I breathe easy when the engineer turns up and the master key doesn’t fit. I glow when someone says something of pure unadulterated, uncopied, wit. Filled with a unique pride of our creed, when some says I don’t give a shit.

So here I am, still lamenting the repeat of predetermined circumstance. I wish that life was ethereal, unpredictable, in fact just pure chance. And the older I get, the more rigid and puritanical seems my stance. That’s not original, that’s not new, you have been taught that dance.

Loot, 2018



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