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.
Author: andrewcstevenson
26. Consumption.
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. Early in the year.
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.
79. Tuesday.
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.
25. Monday, I believe.
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.
80. Tuesday, mid morning.
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.
24. Sunday.
I’m listening to The Archers, about a month behind. The current episodes were recorded before it all went wrong in the world, and so have an artificially bright and happy feel, even with a well constructed DISASTER storyline to keep us all GRIPPED. It seems like a distant time from the past now, in spite … Continue reading 24. Sunday.
13.
Roughly a week later, in the same places but the world has changed. The disease is hitting hard, panic is setting in. It is strange to think that something as automatic and as simple as proximity to other people can be dangerous. Several countries have closed borders, schools and universities. People have been told to … Continue reading 13.
39. Thursday afternoon.
On a train to Hastings, on the diverted route down the Hayes line. That’s the only reason really. Alongside Lower Sydenham there’s an apartment building called Dylon Works, presumably named after Dylon, the fabric dye company. If I lived there I’d call in Dylan works, after the folk musician poet of the people. We’re on … Continue reading 39. Thursday afternoon.
23. Friday.
It’s just started raining. I might go out in it later. Yesterday and today have felt different. On Wednesday I collected the bike, and rode part of the way back. I didn’t feel tired, proof that exercise creates energy. Yesterday I was motivated to do things. Mentally stimulated, until mid-afternoon when I had to sleep … Continue reading 23. Friday.
