ange's musings

So it's thirty-seven minutes before 1st August 2017 and I am sitting on my sofa, full of prosecco (yes it's Monday) and perhaps a little tiddly. The words of a friend no longer in my community and a different friend via whatsapp who is currently in Freetown, Sierre Leone are providing me with the peace and encouragement whilst I live my little, (rather tipsy) individualistic lifestyle in Clifton, Bristol for another, week and another month, as another five minutes counts down. Why did I feel the need to buy some prosecco on a Monday night? Why is one of the only friends I can draw solace from communicating with in Sierre Leone? Why do I live alone despite my best attempts to find an appropriate housemate? Why will it be so hard to get out of bed tomorrow morning despite it being a day off work? And why, did I just impulsively book a return flight to Spain for the bank holiday weekend in August? None of these questions have clear answers. All I know is that whilst I have be...

 1, 8, 2, 8, 11, 90 – the number of days between each blog post since I first attempted to start writing again on 30 th March. How did I start so well and then lose focus so quickly? Funnily enough I had thought I started writing for me and me alone so when just before my last post, I found out someone was actually reading these ramblings, I slightly freaked out. Someone I respected was actually bothering to read my posts? Someone cared enough about my conscious thoughts to take time to read this thing? Clearly that knowledge had an impact on my and days turned into weeks, turned into months and here I am 90 days later wondering what the point of doing this was again. Trying to write something coherent when my flow of thoughts is so incoherent. Not knowing whether it’ll help me, whether there’s any point and there’s a lot on my mind right now. For want of a better description of the situation, let’s just say I have been having a bit of an existential crisis in recent weeks. ...