I still remember learning to ride a bike. My first bike was tiny, bright fluorescent pink with white tires and training wheels that were permanently attached. I outgrew it fast and it was passed down to my younger brother who told me that it was not pink, rather faded red and also a motorcycle. It … Continue reading training wheels.
Right now I should be writing about Galenic theory and the Hippocratic school. I realise that this is procrastination in a charade of productivity. I just cleaned my kitchen and my bathroom, too. My hands are still dry from dish soap. I miss writing. Even my journal is more collected pieces of paper, scraps of … Continue reading mad crazy tired. (when recovering is not glamourus).
Januarys feel like trying to swim in custard. Treading water, exhausting with no forward motion. I don't like the uncertainty that comes along with the promise of a new year. Anxiety demands that I am in control, with every future step planned. Right now I am very much not in control. I'm desperately job hunting, … Continue reading Down Days and Drawing El.
The weeks before my eighteenth birthday were spent in my bedroom at my aunts, my last school holidays, studying for exams that I knew would never make me worth anything. I said goodbye to my childhood alone, sitting by the lake in my hometown, chopped off hair pulled back from my tired eyes, trying to … Continue reading days before 21.
When I was a kid, my siblings and I used to get sent down the local park by my mother whenever she got sick of us all. This happened often. We made good use of this time by finding other local kids to fight. Though I spent the majority of my childhood devising ways to avoid … Continue reading I have had the wind kicked out of me.
I accidentally reached the point where who I am as a person is synonymous with being stressed, which was entirely unintentional and not the dazzling personality trait I'd hoped for. Maybe we all should have seen it coming when my Mother used to say I had frog fingers thanks to my bitten away nails making … Continue reading A Bell Jar of Stress and Trying to Leave it.
When I got home I was hollow. Cried out. Exhausted. I ended up outside in the dark, laying on the pavement, searching for the stars between porridge clouds. The stars have always been my safe place. One of my first memories is from back in 1999, my family had moved from the city to a … Continue reading Refocus.