Musings and scribblings

1. Mar, 2018

Each day when I see what Donald Trump has done and said in the press all I really feel is confusion. I know that certain Americans voted for him because they thought that he would do more for their personal agendas, and improve their lives but how can they really believe in a man who seems to live in his own fantasy world? He has shown the worst of himself in the face of the shooting in Florida, not that there wasn't a lot to point to, as being negative qualities and actions. I don't have a great opinion of the woman leading my own country's government, but at least she is attempting to make the country better, despite her own personal shortcomings. Donald Trump seems to possess no empathy with others, and is like a child in his reactions, whenever anyone disagrees with him or criticises him for the negative things that he does. 

The fact that he as a man who deferred his military service during the Vietnam war five times, under the guise of having bone spurs, whatever they might be is now claiming that he would have had the courage to run into a school where a gunman is shooting a assault rifle is ridiculous. If he didn't have the ability to face a war zone when he was arguably more physically able, and would have gone through intensive training, then there is no chance that he would have had the nerve to run into such a situation as the Stoneman High students faced two weeks ago. 

He has acknowledged himself, in a recorded interview for radio from 2008, that he is not very good at dealing with people who have been injured. The example he gave was that of a elderly man who had fallen onto a marble floor when Trump had been at a event, and the man had injured himself quite severely. Trump said himself that he found himself turning away, and thought that it was 'disgusting'. If he was unable to deal with a single injury, how on earth would have he been able to deal with seeing seventeen people who had received fatal gunshot wounds, to say nothing of the other victims at Stoneman high? 

It is not only that which confuses me though, I am confused about how a man who has lived in the world, and must have interacted with dozens if not hundreds of different people over the course of seventy years cannot make it through a conversation with grieving parents and children without having a reminder to say 'I hear you'. 

26. Feb, 2018

“You look beautiful!” Jenny Swan gasped when her daughter Catalina entered the room. Catalina’s face lit up, she brushed her trembling hands against the ornate lace panel decorating her wedding dress’s full skirt.

            “Really?” Catalina’s eyes betrayed her doubts as she looked at her mother.

            Jenny sighed, used to her daughter’s unwarranted self esteem issues in regard to her looks. It still puzzled her, that her intelligent and incredibly astute daughter didn’t see what everyone else saw when they looked at her. 


Copyright Emily Morris 2018

23. Feb, 2018

I have thought many negative things about Donald Trump since he first started running for president of the United States. I hadn't paid any attention to him during his time as the host of The Apprentice USA, and so had no real concept of how he presented himself in public.

Like many, I was shocked by his comments referencing how he interacted with women. His racial slurs against the entire Mexican nation was another disappointment, I couldn't understand how he was gaining support when he was speaking such bile. The constant displays of ignorance and intolerance towards anyone who dared to display a contrary viewpoint to his, or more accurately tell him that he was doing something wrong, revealed that he had a incredibly thin skin and a child like perception.

However since he came to power, I have kept hoping that someone, anyone would be strong enough to help him display compassion, and help those in his country that aren't necessarily the same as him.

The events in Florida, the shooting of the high school students has revealed that he evidently doesn't possess a high level of compassion. He has been pictured with a cue card to guide him in the sit down with those survivors, which even reminds him of the need to say 'I am listening'

How can a man possibly reach the age of seventy, and not develop the ability to listen to those in the grip of intense grief? I don't understand how it's possible for a man to live in the world, and interact with people and still have to be reminded how to comfort grieving and angry people.


5. Jan, 2018

The following is a snippet about the son of Robert Catesby, based on the few facts I have been able to glean about him. The ringleader of the Gunpowder Plot, was a conflicted absent father who had been through the death of his elder son, his wife and his father within a span of about three years. 

My father was unable to cope with the idea of loving me. He saw me as being responsible for the death of love, as my mother had suffered complications during my birth and was unable to recover.

He had loved her so completely, that he was unable to find peace in the job of bringing me up and instead sought solace in alcohol and physical exertion. He rejoined the only life that he truly understood, the life of a soldier and left my upbringing in the hands of others. 


Copyright Emily Morris 2018

7. Nov, 2017

This piece is designed to be a inner perspective from the lead character I created for my first fiction book Guardians of Time: Kids in America. She's called Aella Tharte and is supposed to be the 'real' person that Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of Love was based on. 


Everybody stands by to let me pass, but it's not because of anything that I've done. It's because of something that I didn't want or ask for. It's lonely being the one that everyone desires. I know that sounds stupid but I never really know if people are interested in me because of who I am, and my characteristics or if it's my gift bringing them close. Each time I have tried to explore in their thoughts, it ends up with me getting swamped by the thoughts of everyone in the immediate vicinity. 

Massimo takes hold of my hand, the enormous callused fist causing the stream of consciousness to stop flowing. But more than that, it stops the influx of everyone else's thoughts and emotions. It goes quiet inside my head for the first time in many centuries. 

Copyright Emily Morris 2017