...and there's the thing. I've always confused time and space: the past feels like a place I can go back to with the right talismans in my hand. Those daybooks were passports of a sort. The only consolation is that I don't *really* want to go back to the 80s, when I was far more naive and clueless than someone in their thirties ought to be, hanging out with people I didn't much like because there was no one else to hang out with. So yes, farewell all those transient coworkers and roommates and friends. My social life is now much emptier than it was, but quality has replaced quantity, for which I must be grateful.
Another Country
...and there's the thing. I've always confused time and space: the past feels like a place I can go back to with the right talismans in my hand. Those daybooks were passports of a sort. The only consolation is that I don't *really* want to go back to the 80s, when I was far more naive and clueless than someone in their thirties ought to be, hanging out with people I didn't much like because there was no one else to hang out with. So yes, farewell all those transient coworkers and roommates and friends. My social life is now much emptier than it was, but quality has replaced quantity, for which I must be grateful.
-
Creaking joints
Another early shift, another trashed knee. Don't ask me why: I was careful to sit when I could and to stretch ligaments. But no- put on boots, walked…
-
Turn of the year
The Dead Days this year are cold rather than warm- reasonable cold, not arctic vortex- so the grey is sharp and hard-edged and sprinkled with white…
-
I has a sad
Grey dank December day, but streets empty enough to bicycle if one exercises care and doesn't mind pissing off motorists, who only put up with…
- Post a new comment
- 2 comments
- Post a new comment
- 2 comments