I dreamed last night that I climbed high somewhere and saw some remains of old houses, but I couldn't climb back down. They were small houses, terraced, just walls remaining, holes where there were once windows, perhaps northern. Later I was at a small untidy Tescos store, I think I was working there, although the … Continue reading 67. Saturday morning.
3. New Years Day. On the train home an unusual man came and sat opposite me, and asked me about the train going to Erith. The bus home from nowhere went there. This person was strange. Light brown skin, blond ginger hair, dyed I guess. He had a short sleeved tee shirt on, unusual for … Continue reading 3-4-5-6
I haven't written in ages, over a month. A break was necessary. I've not had much to say, or much coherent thought. I've been managing the bookshop for over a month. The books, the shop, the physical aspects are all okay. The multiple departments, people and procedures are mentally exhausting. It has been a challenge, … Continue reading 101. Thursday afternoon, aching all over.
At home, tired. I’m used to the fact that people come and go now. I still don’t like it. I still get sad thinking about it, but it is inevitable. I used to be unable to think about losing people, and allowed the innate fear to control the way I interacted with people. When I … Continue reading 40. Saturday evening.
The first day of writing in goodness knows how long. I’ve broken boundary conditions, I’m going elsewhere. Morally I’m accountable only to myself now, I’ve decided. I’ve always felt like a natural loner to quite an extent, so this situation, and my reaction to it, is natural, liberating. Perversely, though, I’m liberated yet still imprisoned. … Continue reading 28. A Friday morning in June 2020. Boundaries.
Things are arriving, packages. That's how we obtain things we need now, like red cross parcels. I've come to look forward to the postman arriving. Choosing things on a screen, typing in a few numbers, seeing the red van and the tattooed calves now represents a very disjointed contact with the outside world. Spending is … Continue reading 26. Consumption.
2.1 Thamesmead is a flat barren landscape near the south eastern reach of the Thames, hence the name. It is a “new town” built in the late 1960s to house people displaced from demolished slum housing, temporary prefabs and bombed streets across all parts of London. It was redundant former military land with no other … Continue reading 2. Early in the year.
It's sunny, I feel happy today. The sun makes a difference. Over the rooftops on the Brighton main line. Getting out might be good for my general mood. We passed a derailment at Clapham, that was interesting. I keep going over these same thoughts, living somewhere else, doing something else, being something else, being renewed, … Continue reading 79. Tuesday.
Today is a joyful non-event. Nothing to do, nothing to worry about, no-one to talk to, no time to keep. The estate demolition is about to start. George has a perfect vantage point for filming it and making time-lapse content. I can’t suggest that to him. Well, I could, but I won’t. Best to forget … Continue reading 25. Monday, I believe.
The sky is bright, the air looks cold outside. I'm getting used to being contained in my concrete tenement now. Dense housing makes me think of photographs of the walled city at Kowloon, Hong Kong, a lawless makeshift township built vertically. It is gone now, demolished, replaced by a park, which apparently serves as a … Continue reading 80. Tuesday, mid morning.