No trains to my place from Gatwick. I wasn’t gonna get mardy about it though as doubtless they have their reasons. This social construct we have made is fragile and involves many moving parts. What were the solutions? Money and Time. “Hi, what are we looking at for a cab to Chelsea?” “About two hours wait. ‘undred fifty pahnds.” Long queues of disgruntled people.
Thankfully I had phoned Tristan. He was waiting in the long stay car park. You get two free hours in there. I got the shuttle over to him and he took me home for half the stated minicab rate, and I got to spend the evening with her.
I have been tired all day though. Can always push through but nice not to have to. After my last blog I found a true hour of oblivion on the ferry back from Vis. Hard floor and the denim bag Lou made me as a perfect pillow. Nothing until sudden awakening again and the knowledge that I had to achieve the airplane.
The weather in Croatia has been perfect and I rather enjoyed being sober at the great big hairy noisy techno party. My brain has Pavlovian responses to such music, and my body interacts almost before I notice. Last night I was at work though. At one point I walked around the fortress in the dark. I felt as I often do then that I was in the right place, between the light and the darkness, belonging fully in neither. I will tend the fire. That’s our job as humans – we keep the fire. This small bright light burning in vast darkness – this is our Promethean charge. I will tend it, feed it, bank it, but I’m also happy to pull away and let others play in the light while I watch the edges of the darkness.
But I’m too tired to try and explain these arbitrary liminal points of identity I’ve learnt to construct to make sense of my needs. We’ve all got them even if it’s just “eew sparkling water,” or “I can’t eat lukewarm food”. I just like to mix being full social with being full recluse. I like being part of the party making but not part of it party fully. Like partystarting in Tower Bridge back in the late nineties in drag. Like my dancing Scrooge. Like so much of what I end up doing. “Here is the place where you can safely play! Have fun. Breathe out. Connect.”
Sleep now though. It’s caught up with me. I’m back in London on my bed. Clean sheets. A cut on my left knee, a burn on my right knee. What’s with my knee karma? A lack of penitence? KNEEL!
Or just sleep. Zzz
AlBarclay 