with my salt lamp still on

Isaiah’s flown back to his other life now. my next semester starts in under a month. I should start thinking about what I’m doing, but the thought of leaving scares me - if only for the fact that it means committing to another round of pretending I know what I’m doing. I’m meant to have some sort of plan for when this course finishes, but I know very little of where I’m going to be. I owe answers to people I love, and it’s all too close for me to run away.

I feel very old and tired too, despite sleeping excessively. swimming in the sea has been nice. sometimes being with friends helps. distraction is a saving grace. I try to draw and think coherently sometimes. I miss a lot still, afraid of committing to words both written and vocalised.

if you’re reading this I hope you’ve had a nice day and are managing okay. I’m trying, as always, to take things one day at a time. whilst I mightn’t be happy with where or who I am right now, I try to remind myself that nothing I see or feel is permanent. go gently, I hope you sleep well. <<

overcast

I walked to the end of the world with a friend. there was no signal and it was quiet. it would have been nice to stay a while. nothing needs to make much sense when everything’s so far away and out of reach. <<

still here

we don’t really talk about the nasty bits. it’s never easy. but it’s been a year now since a very tricky time, since which I’ve tried to find peace and purpose. in the midst of the mess I still stumble into joy. making new friends and missing those I can’t hold close. searching for distraction. being still and learning to allow myself to stop. I’m trying and will continue to do so. still here and breathing just one day at a time; <<

and on and on

sometimes the cat still sleeps under my bed - I hear her snoring there tonight. it’s nice to know some things still stay the same.

another one

another year. we’re all still here, and I feel quite unchanged. I spent the final night of 2021 with a few friends I treasure, whilst missing those I wish I could hold close. another unwritten twelve months of life ahead. New Year’s Eve creates the illusion that an ending has been reached, implying the existence of closure to a whatever the prior twelve months involved. it’s a little misleading, thoufh I’m glad I made the effort to distract myself from the passing of last year into the calendar of now.

I want to move gently through the lack of clarity and confidence I currently hold for my future. I remind myself how lucky I am to have this chance to try to rest and escape. time passes and I need to buy a new calendar. no resolutions yet, for now it’s just one day at a time.

my final clouds of last year

my first clouds of this year

there are still beautiful things. <<