Monday, 17 August 2009

Third person

Bloody hell everything is like MEMORY, everything, a song, a date, a cup, christ make it stop. I got back yesterday and I hadn't actually written anything for the whole of Germany, and I'm not really feeling liek I need to now. I am quite clear of mind on focused on ACTION but then these memories are like SLAM and I've got my frigging stress arms on again!?! Where did they spring from??

Anyway, having a declutter, really I don't need a melon baller, and I seem to have a rather large ratio of knives to other items of cutlery, and a penchant for them,,and wondering if that means anything. My 5ml Nigella spoon is missing and I want it back. What do I get rid of? What do you need in your life? Like a set of everything so if I was displaced in a country kitchen like the barn cottage (FUCK!) that I will never go to again, I could exist with this set of essential possestions. I can't even bloody spell, I've not missed typing I don't think. Possess. Possessions. There we go. So many people asked me when I was away 'do you speak English', like after I'd done a sentence, and I was like 'yes?'. But I'd not spoken at length for about four days so I'm sorry I've forgotten what to do.

I must have stopped thinking in Sweden? I don't know. I was just being. I was too busy in Germany to have thoughts and write them. Too busy to be having epiphanies. Or too busy having epiphanies to notice. Can one have multiple epiphanies? Or is that akin to being very unique? ANyway, when I spoke in France, it actually became easier, because I wasn't locked in my English head, oh oh, how to I, back up, and word it in French, and then speak it in French, oh. More like, I'm making communication here, I want you to know I'm saying this, in this country, so I will say it in your words. That was quite fun, though my French is AWFUL in sound. That would come in practice.

Anyway I am going to go and continue the sort and maybe my words will return soon and I will want to blog. But I actually just enjoyed writing to myself, and thinking about the next stage, rather than just pointless payless blogging and it's third person narrative disease. Bleugh.

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