I find the term ‘old friend’ interesting, because it can be open to interpretation – is my friend just an old person? Or is the friendship itself old? In this case anyway it is simply the friendship, unless you consider 23 an old person.
You know I haven’t logged into my post editor in a while when I simply type ‘blog’ into my google search bar and expect it to appear. Suppose the main reason I haven’t logged on is that I went on a holiday, back to South Africa with family, which was amazing. But I’m sure you could guess that.
Is there such a thing? Is it really a problem that I know think in terms of ‘paint’, ‘death drops’ and ‘tucks’? I know it ain’t a problem that I am feeling all the sass that comes with it. I actually finger snapped at my partner yesterday.
The problem with creativity is that you can’t really schedule it. I can write down ‘Write, 3pm, Saturday’ all I want, but if the juices ain’t flowing on Saturday, then they just ain’t flowing.
realise that this title is vague and weird – this is because what I have to talk about is vague and weird. Also – trigger warning – I’m about to talk about an assault/murder that cropped up in Irish news today.
Why is it that I thought that every aspect of my life needed to be so meaningful? So serious? So life-alteringly complex. Some moments are just moments. Just there to be lived in. Enjoyed. Made fun of.
I’ve been thinking about how people we’ve cared about – people we’ve chosen – have the power to change our minds and indeed our lives. Here is a love letter to those people who’ve changed mine.
2020 has come to a close and lets think about anything other than resolutions and workout plans. Please.