If I was to die suddenly, nobody would have the means to give a fuck. I’m ok with that. I’m home, and I’m here trying to make things make sense. “How goes the blog,” asks Tristan. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him over. “Look at this,” he says. “Shit pellets”. “Word word word word word word word” He says.
It’s odd. I now have to write something, irrespective of blah!!
I’m thinking about the beginnings. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I am happy to make myself part of something but I’m not totally swept up. I’ve enjoyed being slow.
This evening it has been remarkable to be ready for a year of practicality.
I’m so happy to have been pushed. I’m done. Thanks All for being excellent xx A night night
AlBarclay 