Now I'm Repeating What I Say
I finally had a film developed. I dropped my digital camera down the stairs. If I wanted to capture moments and feelings then maybe the world is telling me to keep it secret (keep it safe).
Death has caught up with me and I am tired of it. I'm reminded of a quote from Girl, Interrupted:-
"When you don't want to feel, death can seem like a dream. But seeing death, really seeing it, makes dreaming about it fucking ridiculous. Maybe, there's a moment growing up when something peels back... Maybe, maybe, we look for secrets because we can't believe our minds..."
I'm sorry for talking about death, but at the same time I'm not. It becomes such a taboo to talk about something we all have experience of. I listen to the Distraction Pieces podcast on Dignity in Dying. I still remember wanting to be dead myself, I still remember how it feels to try to kill yourself. I still feel.
I drop boiling water on my fingers by accident and this seems important. I contemplate the transience of all my relationships, romantic or otherwise. Where we are all just dust in the wind (and that is definitely a line from a book or a song and I forget which one).
I'm off to London tomorrow with a man who has hand-tattoos and listens so patiently to my thoughts on death and dying. Someone who surprisingly has given me a feeling that I don't remember having, and I'm not talking love. I'm looking forward to seeing the new part of the Tate Modern, I'm excited to do Brick Lane and listen to him educate me in the ways of graffiti and vandalism in a way that doesn't make me feel stupid. I don't feel embarrassed in my ignorance around him. I don't feel so lost.
There is a lot to be said for taking things gently, going slowly, allowing work and other commitments to occasionally get in the way of romantic tangles. There is a build up to a future, an excitement in catching an evening together watching silly films and talking and sharing and caring.
This is not to say that my ex is a bad person, or even not these things I mention, but there was an uneasiness on my part, more than likely because of a variety of things that were simultaneously not under my control while still being in my control. I still feel sorry and I hope the very best for him.
...and now this feels strange, like I've said too much and ostracised and made you uncomfortable, so I'll finish, I'll be quiet, I have plans and I have printing to do.