Week 35/36

I could not bring myself to write much last week. It’s been hard to find words or have the space to feel feelings. It’s been a tough few weeks with the move and some really, really terrible news lately on many fronts.

The only philosophy keeping me going at the moment is to take it as it comes, day by day, gently. No need to overthink it, no need to stress about things outside of one’s control. To focus on the good, however: I have a new place again, from where I never have to move again unless I want to (big, I know). Most of the unpacking is done, though about 5 or 6 wayward boxes still seem to float around. It’s a new neighborhood that feels vibrant, though is yet to be fully explored. A tiny balcony sparks joy.

With some fall-like days already dropping by last week, it’s also now the tail end of summer. I’m inching dangerously close to my personal “I-need-a-vacation-or-my-head-will-explode” threshold. On a scale of 0 to 5, I’m probably hovering around 4.5. This is obviously very scientific. Thankfully, I’ll be extending my Swedish summer in a few days by… being in Portugal instead. There’s still plenty to wrap up before I head out, but I’ll get there. In parallel, looking forward to my brother taking a big leap and starting his masters at Exeter in a few weeks. Here’s hoping the crashcourse of a one-year program goes less crash and more on course 😅

What’s on my mind, though, is not what I can write about, and what I write about has no resemblance to the picture of it in my mind. So it goes on and on in this circular circus show between honesty and authenticity and some kind of duty to what a finished work ought to mean or represent. Some days are easier to write about than others, and some you’d rather just chop the hand that holds the pen. We are not individualistic, writes Ankita Shah. We are not our routines, but our routines are what give us a balance. We’re not then what gives us balance. I think also that when we’re not us, we’re often our routines, rituals or practices that moor us to a harbour so we can float for a while until we’re back again. In turn, something changes in that floating. Dillard writes, I love easy now. Such a simple, succinct way to name a feeling. It’s not easy to love easy, but it is easy to know what it means, isn’t it?

🥘 Food

• Food was had. No evidence was collected. Some days, that’s enough.

📚 Reading

• Actually, we are not that individualistic - Ankita Shah
• Depravity begins with thinking of love
  as a radical act.

💿 Listening

• What Light (Never Goes Dim) - Aiden Knight
• Write Something Funny - Coma Cinema
• Cause a Rockslide - Badly Drawn Boy