Dear Twenty-Year-Old Flix,
I'm here. Remember how years ago, full of tears and feeling low, you wanted me to come around and tell you things will turn out okay? Well, I'm here now and it's as predicted, even if you couldn't feel it at the time - you're alright; you survived. You’re doing even better than anticipated.
You did it. You got your degree; you're a Master of Science! It got much worse, it was an awful year, but YOU DID IT. You didn't quit and you got the class of qualification that you damn well deserved. It is hard to articulate just how fantastic this achievement is. Well done.
You have a job. It took a while, but it is a 'Real Job', although often it doesn't feel like it. You are really good at it, and it’s even kind of science-related! It provides you with a steady income and you don't have to deal with a cumbersome commute or chatty colleagues. It's ideal for you at the moment. It may not always be, but you don't need to worry about that right now. You should be grateful to have a job when so many struggle to find something suitable.
You have your own place! It was difficult living at home with family, but you're doing much better now. You are calmer, less stressed. Sad, sometimes, but so is everyone. You manage.
You have your own car! More importantly than that - you actually learnt to drive and passed your test, first time. You should be so proud of yourself. You drive on your own, you drive in the dark, you've driven to places by yourself that you've not been to before. It still makes you feel anxious to drive, but you’re getting better.
You've travelled abroad so much in the last ten years! Prague, Barcelona, Edinburgh, Berlin, Cardiff, Florence, Dublin, Budapest, Tallin, Helsinki, Amsterdam, Brussels, Bruges, Reykjavik, Cologne, Copenhagen, Seville, New York, Philadelphia, Killarney, San Francisco, Austin. You've just come back from Lake Como next. You are so lucky.
You have such good friends. Some, you hadn't even met yet with when I was you; some you've kept since you were 12 years old. They are all important and they keep your evenings and your weekends busy and full of fun. Bravo, you have cracked social interaction.
You have your family. They support you, they love you, they annoy you. Your parents split up a few years ago and that is weird, but you're coping okay. You still have them both and you are close to your siblings. You have more than many.
You have a boyfriend. A loving, caring, funny, clever man. You are very happy together.
You are doing well. You are very happy, in general. Life is good and you have much to be thankful for. Congratulations Ten-Years-Ago Flix, I wouldn't be the woman I am today without you making me so.
Lots of love,
Thirty-Year-Old Flix
Flitterbox: Ace of Base ~ Life is a Flower
Sunday, 27 May 2018
Sunday, 18 March 2018
Pecking Pain
Today, I have organised a hen do.
It is an honour, a compliment, a privilege and well…a bit of a pain. So far, I have been a bridesmaid twice, and I have been asked three more times since then. Five wedding invites; five times a bridesmaid. It is wonderful that I have such close friends who want me to be a main part of their special day. It mostly wasn’t hugely unexpected that they asked me and yes, I probably would have felt a bit slighted if I had been left out or not chosen in favour of someone else. However, on the flip side, there would have been a slight sense of relief that I could be ‘just’ a guest and not be directly involved. That I could choose what to wear, and when to arrive. That I didn’t have to play a significant part in arranging a suitable hen do.
The hen-do is the main burden of a bridesmaid, I find. Firstly, it is no longer a “hen night” or a “hen party” with a few of your closest friends. It is more often than not, an entire “hen weekend” with no less than ten girls from several different parts of your life, and parts of your personality, all brought together in a house or a hotel, a tent or a cabin in a location that is not one you have any true connection too. It is expected to cost upwards of a couple of hundred pounds per person, and that’s deemed acceptable because it’s ‘fairly standard for a hen do’. WHY?
Secondly, there’s all the activities that have to be planned. The individual catering to the preferred tastes of the bride-to-be, a full and fun-packed agenda. A morning yoga session; a champagne afternoon tea. An evening at a special restaurant, three courses and copious bottles of bubbly. Cocktail-making, dance classes, an all-you-can-eat bottomless brunch. With a dozen people attending of different ages, fitness levels, dietary requirements and personalities, it can be so difficult to try and find events to suit all, even if the ultimate aim is to ensure the bride is satisfied, she won’t have fun unless everyone is willing and involved in the weekend. Time to rest and relax is often built in at some point, but there is much focus on doing things together as a group for most of the time, after all that is what you’re there for. It’s tiring.
Thirdly, the surprise aspect. You are often expected to arrange an entire weekend event, co-ordinating a group of someone else’s friends (half of whom won’t know each other), without much assistance from the one person who links all those people together. You have to second guess what the bride will like, what she expects, will she be disappointed if something in particular is missing? Would she love to go glamping or rather have something more upmarket? Does she want to go for a night out, a few drinks at a few bars, or just a cosy nights in with games and food? Does she want the tacky ‘traditional’ tat that goes with hen parties, or prefer a classier affair?
Surely, since she’s defined you as one of her closest friends, that must mean you know all this instinctively, right? Not always. She needs to be surprised by having exactly the kind of thing she wants, without having to tell you that is what it is. And you have to agree on this with her other bridesmaids, again these could be girls you haven’t met who may have very different ideas from your own.
I have arranged three successful hen celebrations, each suited to the respective bride. They were fun, but also, exhausting and a cause of anxiety, even in the midst of the activities. I couldn’t fully enjoy the experiences as I was constantly concerned that it wouldn’t quite work out, or what might happen next, or did she expect more? Part of that is due to my own personality, I know. I am trying to arrange a fourth for this summer, for which complications are already cropping up. In a way, it is great to be involved, to be able to suggest something that I know she would love, to have the gratitude from the bride and friends at the end, for arranging a fun weekend away. To be a chosen one is a concrete affirmation of how important your friendship is to a person. Defining ‘best friends’ in a way that hasn’t been necessary since primary school. It gives a warm glow and makes attending a wedding that bit more exciting and meaningful.
I do wonder though, what it might be like to be invited to a wedding where I am not a bridesmaid. Perhaps I will find out one day?
Flitterbox: Candi Lauper ~ Girls Just Want To Have Fun
It is an honour, a compliment, a privilege and well…a bit of a pain. So far, I have been a bridesmaid twice, and I have been asked three more times since then. Five wedding invites; five times a bridesmaid. It is wonderful that I have such close friends who want me to be a main part of their special day. It mostly wasn’t hugely unexpected that they asked me and yes, I probably would have felt a bit slighted if I had been left out or not chosen in favour of someone else. However, on the flip side, there would have been a slight sense of relief that I could be ‘just’ a guest and not be directly involved. That I could choose what to wear, and when to arrive. That I didn’t have to play a significant part in arranging a suitable hen do.
The hen-do is the main burden of a bridesmaid, I find. Firstly, it is no longer a “hen night” or a “hen party” with a few of your closest friends. It is more often than not, an entire “hen weekend” with no less than ten girls from several different parts of your life, and parts of your personality, all brought together in a house or a hotel, a tent or a cabin in a location that is not one you have any true connection too. It is expected to cost upwards of a couple of hundred pounds per person, and that’s deemed acceptable because it’s ‘fairly standard for a hen do’. WHY?
Secondly, there’s all the activities that have to be planned. The individual catering to the preferred tastes of the bride-to-be, a full and fun-packed agenda. A morning yoga session; a champagne afternoon tea. An evening at a special restaurant, three courses and copious bottles of bubbly. Cocktail-making, dance classes, an all-you-can-eat bottomless brunch. With a dozen people attending of different ages, fitness levels, dietary requirements and personalities, it can be so difficult to try and find events to suit all, even if the ultimate aim is to ensure the bride is satisfied, she won’t have fun unless everyone is willing and involved in the weekend. Time to rest and relax is often built in at some point, but there is much focus on doing things together as a group for most of the time, after all that is what you’re there for. It’s tiring.
Thirdly, the surprise aspect. You are often expected to arrange an entire weekend event, co-ordinating a group of someone else’s friends (half of whom won’t know each other), without much assistance from the one person who links all those people together. You have to second guess what the bride will like, what she expects, will she be disappointed if something in particular is missing? Would she love to go glamping or rather have something more upmarket? Does she want to go for a night out, a few drinks at a few bars, or just a cosy nights in with games and food? Does she want the tacky ‘traditional’ tat that goes with hen parties, or prefer a classier affair?
Surely, since she’s defined you as one of her closest friends, that must mean you know all this instinctively, right? Not always. She needs to be surprised by having exactly the kind of thing she wants, without having to tell you that is what it is. And you have to agree on this with her other bridesmaids, again these could be girls you haven’t met who may have very different ideas from your own.
I have arranged three successful hen celebrations, each suited to the respective bride. They were fun, but also, exhausting and a cause of anxiety, even in the midst of the activities. I couldn’t fully enjoy the experiences as I was constantly concerned that it wouldn’t quite work out, or what might happen next, or did she expect more? Part of that is due to my own personality, I know. I am trying to arrange a fourth for this summer, for which complications are already cropping up. In a way, it is great to be involved, to be able to suggest something that I know she would love, to have the gratitude from the bride and friends at the end, for arranging a fun weekend away. To be a chosen one is a concrete affirmation of how important your friendship is to a person. Defining ‘best friends’ in a way that hasn’t been necessary since primary school. It gives a warm glow and makes attending a wedding that bit more exciting and meaningful.
I do wonder though, what it might be like to be invited to a wedding where I am not a bridesmaid. Perhaps I will find out one day?
Flitterbox: Candi Lauper ~ Girls Just Want To Have Fun
Saturday, 20 January 2018
Write Right
Today, I have written without thinking.
I have a feeling that I’ve more to say on the subject of writing and in a way, starting to write again is a bit like going back to the beginning. The faltering, unsure posts saying nothing much and not being certain that anyone is even reading regularly. But if one person is, even intermittently, that’s enough, I don’t need nor want 10k followers. It’s okay to write as myself, about myself. Or about anything I want, even if it doesn’t have an ‘angle’ or an aim. It doesn’t mean I’m going back to the way things were. It just means I have things I want to say or document and that by imagining that there is someone reading means I am able to structure thoughts better. It means I think about how I construct my sentences, the vocabulary that I use – scanning my brain for synonyms when I find myself repeating words, or considering whether my grammar is actually correct. Am I over using alliteration? Then realising it doesn’t matter that much anyway, or if I don’t follow the 8 simple rules to make my blog the best, because all I need is it to work for me.
My blog is inextricably linked with sadness and reflection. It’s not all necessarily bad, naturally. Sometimes it’s an observation I want to keep hold of, a trip I want memories to last beyond photographs. Pictures are fantastic, of course, but some of my most treasured times are those that you don’t want nor need a camera to capture. Words can help with that. And sometimes, they are flowery and fancy and sometimes they are written purely for effect. Of course, I don’t actually talk like this. Writing happy is hard, I find – please, read and see, look how lucky I am and how great my life is!
Life has changed, so much, since the days of Turning Twenteen. I am not far off being in my thirs rather than twens and the blank canvas that is the next decade of my life stretches before me. I am making home improvements on a place that I live in, that now, someone is living in with me. I have newly-laid carpets and newly-acquired second-hand sofas. I have bought lampshades and have painted walls. I have a disposable income of my very own that is not a loan, and I can use it however I wish. I can spend Saturday evening reading, watching TV, playing a board game or going to bed at 9pm. I can spend my holidays in the UK, as I did earlier this year - visiting the town instead of the festival, and preferring it. Eating a dinner by candlelight with a meal made from can of mixed beans and microwave rice, a glass of red wine, and the sound of gentle jazz music streamed from Spotify. It may not be instagrammable or worthy of a foodie post but for me, as meals go, it was one of the finest. Not for the food, but for the company, the memory, and the content realisation that at that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
It feels like things are falling into place.
Flitterbox: Clean Bandit ft Jess Glynne ~ Rather Be
I have a feeling that I’ve more to say on the subject of writing and in a way, starting to write again is a bit like going back to the beginning. The faltering, unsure posts saying nothing much and not being certain that anyone is even reading regularly. But if one person is, even intermittently, that’s enough, I don’t need nor want 10k followers. It’s okay to write as myself, about myself. Or about anything I want, even if it doesn’t have an ‘angle’ or an aim. It doesn’t mean I’m going back to the way things were. It just means I have things I want to say or document and that by imagining that there is someone reading means I am able to structure thoughts better. It means I think about how I construct my sentences, the vocabulary that I use – scanning my brain for synonyms when I find myself repeating words, or considering whether my grammar is actually correct. Am I over using alliteration? Then realising it doesn’t matter that much anyway, or if I don’t follow the 8 simple rules to make my blog the best, because all I need is it to work for me.
My blog is inextricably linked with sadness and reflection. It’s not all necessarily bad, naturally. Sometimes it’s an observation I want to keep hold of, a trip I want memories to last beyond photographs. Pictures are fantastic, of course, but some of my most treasured times are those that you don’t want nor need a camera to capture. Words can help with that. And sometimes, they are flowery and fancy and sometimes they are written purely for effect. Of course, I don’t actually talk like this. Writing happy is hard, I find – please, read and see, look how lucky I am and how great my life is!
Life has changed, so much, since the days of Turning Twenteen. I am not far off being in my thirs rather than twens and the blank canvas that is the next decade of my life stretches before me. I am making home improvements on a place that I live in, that now, someone is living in with me. I have newly-laid carpets and newly-acquired second-hand sofas. I have bought lampshades and have painted walls. I have a disposable income of my very own that is not a loan, and I can use it however I wish. I can spend Saturday evening reading, watching TV, playing a board game or going to bed at 9pm. I can spend my holidays in the UK, as I did earlier this year - visiting the town instead of the festival, and preferring it. Eating a dinner by candlelight with a meal made from can of mixed beans and microwave rice, a glass of red wine, and the sound of gentle jazz music streamed from Spotify. It may not be instagrammable or worthy of a foodie post but for me, as meals go, it was one of the finest. Not for the food, but for the company, the memory, and the content realisation that at that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
It feels like things are falling into place.
Flitterbox: Clean Bandit ft Jess Glynne ~ Rather Be
Thursday, 29 June 2017
Sunday Morning
I walk across town, a sunny June Sunday morning. Fresh croissants and strawberry smoothie in my bag. I pass a women on her way to church, we exchange morning greetings. I’m heading to eat breakfast with my family. My life is a novel, a poem, a collection of short stories. Every moment, I want to stop, take note, record.
Choral music plays from a window. Bells chime, birds sing, a child laughs. A dog sniffs at my feet, I smile at the owner.
I like living in a place where strangers say hello when they cross in the street or when walking their dogs. I like living in a place filled with green spaces, flowing rivers, old houses, open gardens. I like living in a place where my immediate family is within easy distance. I like living a life that is intertwined with family and friends, where encounters aren’t always planned to last a whole day, but can be spontaneously arranged upon suggestion. Where ‘meeting up’ is just popping in for a cup of coffee on the way to somewhere else, that then turns into full breakfast with siblings all there. I like it like that. We cook and eat and drink together. We chat and laugh about the night before. We gather round and swipe through photos. We spend an hour or so with each other, before going onwards with the rest of our day, separately.
Moments like these are the ones to remember. A simple Sunday morning with family. I want to stop, take note, record, and so that is what I have done.
Sunday, 28 May 2017
Impress Me
Today, I have been impressed.
I can’t identify quite what irks me so much about this statement. It was probably meant as a throwaway remark, a comment on the neat package of external expectations achieved by an arbitrary age but I just found it annoying that someone could be ‘impressed’ by that alone. Like, you haven’t actually ‘achieved’ much by merely marrying someone or partaking in the physical act of procreating. The person who made the comment knew nothing more of this person’s life than what is on social media. The idea that if you’ve ticked those boxes means you can turn thirty without worry is just odd, in my opinion. Besides, who knows just what the future holds…? Or indeed, the present – you don’t know the details of their situation or what was sacrificed to get there, so I can’t consider marriage and pregnancy impressive in itself without the whole picture. There are far more achievements in life that people don’t seem to recognise in the same way, perhaps because it’s something they’ve already managed, or something they have no desire to do, and I find it quite irritating on occasion.
I am impressed if you run 10 x 10km or 13.1 x 13.1 miles, or 1 x 26.2 miles, whatever your age and whatever the cause. It requires a lot of dedication and training, even if that is what you enjoy doing and especially if it's not.
I am impressed if you makeover your house on the cheap, by yourself, learning new skills in order to do so. Because it’s not always fun to do and things can go wrong, and can be stressful.
I am impressed if you volunteer. If you do a job that helps people. If you give up your own time, not because you will earn more money, but because there is someone in need and you can help them.
I am impressed if you deal with the death of a loved one, admin, emotions and all. It is hard being an adult and sometimes we suddenly have to be more grown up sooner than we ever thought we’d need to be.
I am impressed if you raise children and they are polite and kind. Having a baby itself is not the impressive thing, but being a parent is difficult sometimes and if your child is kind then you’re doing a good job.
I am impressed if you have the courage to stop being in a relationship that is not right for you and silence the expectations of society and social circles telling you to settle or stay. Breaking up is hard to do.
I am impressed if you are able to keep dating even if each one so far has been a dullard or a dick. It’s tough to find enthusiasm to constantly meet new people when chances are they may not be right for you.
I am impressed if you are able to keep genuine friends, make time to meet up with them, share stories. It is easy to let friends slip away if you don’t put the effort in.
I am impressed if you work towards a goal that requires commitment over an extended period of time. If you persevere when the going gets tough and don’t give up.
I am impressed by so many things of varying magnitudes that people around me do, but none of them involves how much you earn, whether you are married or have children and in most cases, age is irrelevant.
Flitterbox: Shania Twain ~ That Don't Impress Me Much
“Impressive, though. To be in that job, married and have a baby before you’re thirty”
No.
I can’t identify quite what irks me so much about this statement. It was probably meant as a throwaway remark, a comment on the neat package of external expectations achieved by an arbitrary age but I just found it annoying that someone could be ‘impressed’ by that alone. Like, you haven’t actually ‘achieved’ much by merely marrying someone or partaking in the physical act of procreating. The person who made the comment knew nothing more of this person’s life than what is on social media. The idea that if you’ve ticked those boxes means you can turn thirty without worry is just odd, in my opinion. Besides, who knows just what the future holds…? Or indeed, the present – you don’t know the details of their situation or what was sacrificed to get there, so I can’t consider marriage and pregnancy impressive in itself without the whole picture. There are far more achievements in life that people don’t seem to recognise in the same way, perhaps because it’s something they’ve already managed, or something they have no desire to do, and I find it quite irritating on occasion.
I am impressed if you run 10 x 10km or 13.1 x 13.1 miles, or 1 x 26.2 miles, whatever your age and whatever the cause. It requires a lot of dedication and training, even if that is what you enjoy doing and especially if it's not.
I am impressed if you makeover your house on the cheap, by yourself, learning new skills in order to do so. Because it’s not always fun to do and things can go wrong, and can be stressful.
I am impressed if you volunteer. If you do a job that helps people. If you give up your own time, not because you will earn more money, but because there is someone in need and you can help them.
I am impressed if you deal with the death of a loved one, admin, emotions and all. It is hard being an adult and sometimes we suddenly have to be more grown up sooner than we ever thought we’d need to be.
I am impressed if you raise children and they are polite and kind. Having a baby itself is not the impressive thing, but being a parent is difficult sometimes and if your child is kind then you’re doing a good job.
I am impressed if you have the courage to stop being in a relationship that is not right for you and silence the expectations of society and social circles telling you to settle or stay. Breaking up is hard to do.
I am impressed if you are able to keep dating even if each one so far has been a dullard or a dick. It’s tough to find enthusiasm to constantly meet new people when chances are they may not be right for you.
I am impressed if you are able to keep genuine friends, make time to meet up with them, share stories. It is easy to let friends slip away if you don’t put the effort in.
I am impressed if you work towards a goal that requires commitment over an extended period of time. If you persevere when the going gets tough and don’t give up.
I am impressed by so many things of varying magnitudes that people around me do, but none of them involves how much you earn, whether you are married or have children and in most cases, age is irrelevant.
Flitterbox: Shania Twain ~ That Don't Impress Me Much
Thursday, 11 May 2017
Hello Happy
I was so sad, then.
Going back, it felt like I was in a movie set of a film I have seen over and over again. I know it so well. A bittersweet tale that pulls at my heartstrings in a way that makes me want to keep watching. There's a character that I identify with so well, but she's not quite me. I wander around the set, drinking in all these sights as if I've lived them, as if I've walked these streets so many times that I can visualise being here, I can feel her emotions pulsing through me, fighting with my own. I wonder, is it normal to experience it like this? The rest of the cast aren't around now, but I can see them in my mind. I remember all the scenes and the lines, the funny bits, the heartwarming moments, but also the gut-wrenching despair. I turn a corner and each location renews a sense of detached familiarity. The main character is ghost-like, I sense her presence everywhere. I can't go into her room, but I feel the melancholy overwhelm me just from being outside, looking in. Somehow, the surroundings are just as imagined, the props are spot on, but I still can't quite grasp the reality of being in the same space she once shared. I go to where she had daily lectures, where she ate lunch, walk the staircase she dreaded every morning. I am there, I am her, I am me. I can't cope with the confluence of the two personalities. How can I be both her then, and myself now? I need time to process this, to conceptualise. And I do, later that night while my heart is bursting, full of lost moments, I articulate the feeling that has been hanging over me for most of the day.
I was so sad. I was so sad. I was so sad.
It is difficult to admit, and I'm not sure I even realised fully at the time, but it is freeing to recognise. I was so sad. But now, I am happy. The girl I left there was full of worry and hopelessness and some days, all she had to hang on to was that one day, perhaps in ten, eight, nine, seven years from now, it will be okay. This too shall pass. And that, it did.
Which brings us to today, things are more than okay. It is hard to express how happy I am that things worked out for her. That she doesn't have to be there any more, that she doesn't have to feel like that every day, any more. It may now seem like a movie set but it was real life, once upon a time. I want to hug her so tight and tell her it will be alright but just as you can't do that to characters in a story, you can't connect to your past self. So I guess I have to satisfy my self of the moment with the reminder that everything is okay now.
I am happy, now.
Going back, it felt like I was in a movie set of a film I have seen over and over again. I know it so well. A bittersweet tale that pulls at my heartstrings in a way that makes me want to keep watching. There's a character that I identify with so well, but she's not quite me. I wander around the set, drinking in all these sights as if I've lived them, as if I've walked these streets so many times that I can visualise being here, I can feel her emotions pulsing through me, fighting with my own. I wonder, is it normal to experience it like this? The rest of the cast aren't around now, but I can see them in my mind. I remember all the scenes and the lines, the funny bits, the heartwarming moments, but also the gut-wrenching despair. I turn a corner and each location renews a sense of detached familiarity. The main character is ghost-like, I sense her presence everywhere. I can't go into her room, but I feel the melancholy overwhelm me just from being outside, looking in. Somehow, the surroundings are just as imagined, the props are spot on, but I still can't quite grasp the reality of being in the same space she once shared. I go to where she had daily lectures, where she ate lunch, walk the staircase she dreaded every morning. I am there, I am her, I am me. I can't cope with the confluence of the two personalities. How can I be both her then, and myself now? I need time to process this, to conceptualise. And I do, later that night while my heart is bursting, full of lost moments, I articulate the feeling that has been hanging over me for most of the day.
I was so sad. I was so sad. I was so sad.
It is difficult to admit, and I'm not sure I even realised fully at the time, but it is freeing to recognise. I was so sad. But now, I am happy. The girl I left there was full of worry and hopelessness and some days, all she had to hang on to was that one day, perhaps in ten, eight, nine, seven years from now, it will be okay. This too shall pass. And that, it did.
Which brings us to today, things are more than okay. It is hard to express how happy I am that things worked out for her. That she doesn't have to be there any more, that she doesn't have to feel like that every day, any more. It may now seem like a movie set but it was real life, once upon a time. I want to hug her so tight and tell her it will be alright but just as you can't do that to characters in a story, you can't connect to your past self. So I guess I have to satisfy my self of the moment with the reminder that everything is okay now.
I am happy, now.
Flitterbox: Razorlight ~ Stumble and Fall
Sunday, 7 May 2017
Slow Down
Today, I have felt stressed.
I am quick to defend what I believe to be true. I am ready to stand up for a person when I feel that their words or actions may have been misunderstood. I am keen to be a voice of reason and representation, to help people understand one another where they might not be able to make that link themselves. Sometimes, I feel like I see things differently to other people. Sometimes, I suppose, everyone feels that way.
Writing calms my mind. I know this to be true and I found it particularly helpful as a student. Writing allows me to process my thoughts in a way that talking or thinking doesn't always manage. Writing, as if to someone outside of myself, brings order to my brain.
I think it's something that I need at the moment. There's no great trauma or tragedy in my life, fear not. But there's plenty I could say, so many changes happening all around that are almost passing me by. Minor decisions that I am finding hard to pin down, major milestones that friends are ticking off, all the time. I want to capture these feelings, these events, these viewpoints.
Perhaps this is just a burst of inspiration. Perhaps it is a momentary blip back to unsettled and restless. Perhaps it won't last long. Well, we shall see.
Flitterbox: Frank Turner ~ Photosynthesise
I am quick to defend what I believe to be true. I am ready to stand up for a person when I feel that their words or actions may have been misunderstood. I am keen to be a voice of reason and representation, to help people understand one another where they might not be able to make that link themselves. Sometimes, I feel like I see things differently to other people. Sometimes, I suppose, everyone feels that way.
Writing calms my mind. I know this to be true and I found it particularly helpful as a student. Writing allows me to process my thoughts in a way that talking or thinking doesn't always manage. Writing, as if to someone outside of myself, brings order to my brain.
I think it's something that I need at the moment. There's no great trauma or tragedy in my life, fear not. But there's plenty I could say, so many changes happening all around that are almost passing me by. Minor decisions that I am finding hard to pin down, major milestones that friends are ticking off, all the time. I want to capture these feelings, these events, these viewpoints.
Perhaps this is just a burst of inspiration. Perhaps it is a momentary blip back to unsettled and restless. Perhaps it won't last long. Well, we shall see.
Perhaps a blog is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm.
Flitterbox: Frank Turner ~ Photosynthesise
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