Oh gosh. Where to begin? Time has been moving in strange ways recently, and life has changed yet again, into something that I can't recognise or understand. It's uncomfortable and unexplored and I find myself wishing for simpler, for easier.
But it isn't simple, and it isn't easy, and if it were, I would probably be impatient for change. I feel like a scratched window pane in winter, with ice on my insides and cold sun trying to warm my exterior. I haven't written anything in so long, not really. It feels like too many imaginary people are watching me and waiting for a spelling mistake or a slip. I feel like I can't brush my teeth enough times, like I have to get up from my chair every ten minutes to make sure my body hasn't stopped working.
I'm going to America in 10 days, and parts of me is so excited to be escaping across the ocean that they're ending up in knots. Planes and new people and tired. I am unsure what they will see inside of me when I go through the security gates, because anatomically-speaking I don't think things are where they should be right now. Heart in throat, stomach in my feet, that sort of feeling.
Onwards and sideways readers, onwards and sideways.