Just a ramble about bad parking/driving…
Relevant to yesterday’s poem.
Saturday and time to share more things I like!
And something vaguely political-environmental for this Sunday.
It’s time I come clean here. I am currently over 30 years old and I do not possess a driver’s license. I got my first permit to practice driving when I was 16, but driving with my parents only led to distress and anxiety, so eventually I refused to do it. It took a little more than 10 years before I dared to get another permit, this time because I was feeling the pressures of society that a woman in her late 20s should be able to drive a car, even though I live in a city with good public transport that takes me anywhere I might want to go on day-to-day basis. So where did that all that pressure come from?
Another rather personal poem.