Wednesday, 30 November 2011


I have been frantically frustrating (as in the verb - I have no idea whether it is a verb, but if not then it should be) over life lately. Frustrating over where I am going in relation to where I want to be, where I am in relation to where I want to be. How life is panning out and how day-to-day existence is working for me.

Some things are just perfect. And when I consider it long and hard, everything is perfect. But I have ideas and dreams that are too big to contain, though I have to contain them, day-in and day-out. I feel shut up in a glass box, stuck behind a desk. And equally I feel so glad and so excited for the way the weeks flow together, how my time is my own, and how I don't really need to build on any of it.

I am containing dreams that won't be contained, while striving to live each day with vigour. I have been talking obsessively about this with Daniel, going round and round and round until everything has been said in every possible way that the English language will allow. No answers have been discovered this way.

Tonight I found the answer to fix my twisted-in-two-ways heart: Beethoven's Fifth and a mid-week gin and tonic. Sometimes solutions are much more simple then they would appear.