CHANNELLING

It’s almost five in the morning and I’ve been awake since three. I can’t sleep. Apart from the anxiety of my financial disarray I’ve been thinking about two friends of mine and the time, a few years back, when they were looking for new members for the mens group they were in.
‘I suggested you,’ said a man I bumped into recently who was in the group but now’s left. ‘But they said you weren’t the sort of man they wanted.’
‘What do you mean?’ I said.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘They just said they didn’t want you in the group.’
‘Well, no reason they should, is there, really?’
‘I suppose not. It just seemed a bit odd, you being friends.’
‘Yeh, it hurt they didn’t ask, that’s true,’ I said. ‘But if they had I don’t know I’d’ve joined anyway.’
They advertised and interviewed. One of the men they chose from those who applied, is a prick, incredibly irritating, and whenever we’ve had occasion to talk he’s been dismissive and contemptuous of me and my creative endeavours. Though this might be more about what he represents than who he is, I think he might be channelling.