Still dodging sitting down to write something properly, but still scribbling furiously in the notebook. I found the following written all on one page from a drunken train journey a couple of weeks ago:
Try as you might and some days you still canâ€™t get up. Trailing an arm out of the bed and feeling the blast of cold on the hairs of your skin and think nah, Iâ€™m staying here. A tendency to go through things 50 times before breakfast was starting to become wearing.
Suddenly, staring standing on the tube platform I understood it all. I was overcome by the feeling that the world was a bigger place than me and that if I could just hang on to the universal rhythm, surf the natural flow so to speak, everything would be alright. Thatâ€™s the power of uplifting tunes in your ears and commuting when youâ€™re not bothered about getting there in time. Feeling like I canâ€™t achieve anything that I need to achieve and perhaps thatâ€™s ok. Or maybe feeling like I can achieve anything and thatâ€™s also ok. Much the same.
Feeling like I should shave my head, let the sun fall down on my white pate. Get those vibrations out of your skull, dry up that patch of dry skin. Shave it clean and start over.
Been walking around in my suit, slightly sharper and more conservative than the average gent. Thatâ€™s the inevitable effect of spending most of your life in jeans and tshirts â€“ a tie feels like a novelty. Something from the old world and worth Windsor knotting, if youâ€™re going to bother at all.