It’s been a strange few weeks. Hectic organisation of a hugely successful event. Business booming, for now. The pirate back on the scene, and moving in, tomorrow.
Great changes happening in small, quiet ways. Spending more time in the car, less in the pub. Sitting down to get work done, and hours rolling away in minutes. Time passing gently yet frighteningly quickly.
A feeling of being settled, in my job and in myself. A feeling of fullness, maybe, in what I think is my stomach but is perhaps, really, my soul. An almost sub-conscious awareness of not needing anything else right now.
I bought sheets today, and wasn’t tempted to buy cushions, or lamps, or random things to match. I have no desire for that satisfaction that usually comes with a heavy shopping bag. My best purchases the last few weeks have been books… around 8 new novels to live inside when I get around to them.
Only one book this year truly made a difference, where I dreamt about the characters, felt their presence in my life, wondered about their future, and cried at their tears. I’m hoping to find another, soon.
I bought the paper today, a broadsheet, as I’m trying Highbrow for a few days. I don’t think it’s me; I scan over the pictures, pausing on the interesting faces, unconcerned about the articles.
I’m more interested now in the advertising, in the tone, in the colour, in the layout. Learning from everything, collecting leaflets and designs like a graphic design junkie.
Yes, I voted last week, but I don’t want to talk about it. Political debate, however intelligent or worthy, is of no interest to me, though I’m sure the outcome will be of importance.
It’s time for bed, but I’m afraid to let my mind switch off tonight, imagining I’m on the verge of something worth being awake for, some thought explosion or heavenly inspiration.
I feel, tonight, as though my own company has filled the room the way other people might, if I were in the mood for real company. As though my being here, my breath, has reached every corner of the building. I can see my life everywhere I look, me, in the clutter on the table, in the books on the floor, in the slowly wilting thirsty flowers on the mantelpiece. I have arrived, this is home.
