Moody moody.

In psychiatric wards they use creative writing to help the patients express their emotions. One exercise they give is to imagine your mood as an animal. As my current situation somewhat resembles – to me at least – such a ward, I thought i’d give it a go.

The gorilla waits for his mid morning banana. He knows he could go and get it for himself but he doesn’t; he sits where he’s sat since the day he arrived at the zoo. To pass the time before the keeper arrives with his banana he picks at the dirt with his clipped fingernails. He sieves the earth for rocks which he throws, lamely, at a post at the other end of his enclosure. As he does this he stares ahead.  Ten meters in front of him is the northern edge of his captivity and it is marked by a long glass wall stretched round the internal section of his cage. In the early mornings, when the sun peeks through the bars, he is observed by his own reflection rather than visitors. Then in the evenings, when the lights go on inside, his audience are lit up like gawping iguanas. At these times he turns to the left to face the outside; watching the clouds change colour – but not lightness, the clouds are always dark. During the day his eyes slump on the television screen in the ‘gorilla room’ which flicks through photos of his ‘life in the wild’ and arbitrary facts about his ‘endangered habitat’.  He watches this for no more reason than it is familiar and it seems to justify – to the others at least – his current state of extinction. When his banana arrives he eats it in one, and waits for the next.