I’ve been meaning to write about the things that happened last year, as I always have at the end of the year. I didn’t. I thought this told me something. Six months later, I think it is telling me something else. I didn’t. I haven’t; I will.
What has changed? I thought I would enjoy being free. But I grabbed at time previously because I knew I had none. Nowadays I have so much of it I don’t know what to do with myself, and as a consequence I don’t do anything with it, because I can always do it later. That is the problem with being free. And I’m just a lazy fuck.
Example: Where’s my writing gone? At the beginning I wrote a lot more, simply because I could. But now as I do less, I think less, and perhaps I think less clearly. I meant to rewrite my profile to suit my new life, only to realise that maybe my new life didn’t suit me; and as we come full circle, nothing has changed and maybe there is nothing to rewrite. Am I, as usual, overthinking this? Zzzz.