listening to 10am Gare du Nord by Keaton Henson at 12:43am

letting go of those places and faces seems less possible despite the deeper void, growing each day with time. a year ago, exploring foreign countries alone, meeting strangers and marvelling at galleries and buildings and views from my train windows. soon to be a year since finding home in England. I don’t see the point in pretending not to hold on to those precious months: I relive a supercut in my head most nights. life continues, though my heart feels oceans away.