31 January 2013.
It is a relief to write at times. When millions of words are crowding inside your head and crying for a way out. But open your mouth and they all tumble out wrong. Keeping them in a safe option…but then again, not advised for your sanity. The words flit in within, driving me crazy….and then the fingers overpower that restlessness. They type as fast as possible…
The New Year is already 1 month down. February starts off from tomorrow and I chalk up another month in my series of London I(s). I am 4 months old already, and the glamour is fading out. The dust of habit is fast settling in and it feels like I’ve lived here all my life. Funny how getting used to any environment seems matter of fact within days. Oh all that fuss about ‘staying alone’. Cooking isn’t such a challenge, banks aren’t such a mystery and self-entertainment is a skill worth perfecting. In a manner of speaking, the months have rushed past…and yet each day has dragged on. Some nights I’ve just been glad to chalk off yet another day and at other times, there was no keeping tab on how the week was over and gone already.
Tonight is one of those nights when I am simply glad the day is over. It has been tiring but it has been boring. I have given myself company and I just want to escape from myself. Run up the hill and into the woods…to scream out loud. Feel alive and not alone.
Or maybe I can just write it right….and save myself 🙂