Grey

So blue I'm not even (mean) red, but well grey, gris if you want to glamourise it. Hmm. Transition is all I can call it, when you are most honest to yourself, and know you wouldn't be making up this mood. Who'd choose this? So actually, in amongst this colourless cloud, is the most honesty, that thing you love remember, so, well, it's only leading to a good place. ? .

Hope has been missing for around ten days now. Fading away. I don't want to stop, don't want to stop spinning, literally, because when I do, well everything else is still going and I'm not in there, I'm lost, it's losing me, I don't know where I am. I walk down Green Lanes and buy and eat Turkish biscuits, trying not to feel too crazy trying to humour the guy in Homebase over the one pound price discrepency of a plastic trough that I don't even like. Days off where I see myself lost, trying to trust the everyday, not quite succeeding.

I enjoyed dancing on Wednesday, I enjoyed dancing on Friday. The type where you're clock watching because you wish it would stop, and this could go on for time, not because you resent the day continuing. I kind of enjoyed the School food tour, I mean I literally enjoyed it, it's my world, but I was also labouring under a dual purpose. Oh, I work at Monmouth, I told the Dairy man, but I'm also interning for the School. I'm here twice. Art and artisan. I'm so confusing I can't even chat to these 'customers', I'm too much, too free, too knotted, old, inbetween, cheeky excess.

She asked me to tackle the cabinet today. I was taken aback with such horror I even surprised myself. It cut close, make it curious she said, I found myself doodling art old ideas out of context, pondering how much to think about this task. I already thought too much. I remembered what she told me the other year, about my level of complete and perfect being already a spliced cut of too much, and that if I just toned down and sat comfy in a simplified version of things, then, that might be enough! It eased as I shopped, but I returned to their ideas which made me cynical and cold. I used to know too much, enough, now I know hardly nothing and I can't communicate beyond this.

I'm having a confusing time. Encapsulated, I'm thinking of moving house, I need a career and/or (another story for another day) job direction, and I'm pretty grumpy at being consistently single. I don't know if I'm doing that thing where I roll my problems into one, or whether it is true that I don't feel at all anchored, and who wouldn't feel this way. Not even the swing lifted me last night. Until that is we'd decided to head home, and I had 4 dances of abandon follow that lost me and twirled things. I didn't pretend. Of all things, sitting grumpy seemed to garner interest in my plight, attracting more advance than ever. I think I just need to work this through honestly and frankly. And be open to being helped, as well as helping myself.