Milk And Two Sugars

bitterness and self absorption at its finest.

20 years alive and going strong.

Missing the warmth and salty air.  I need to come home.

Build a ship worth steering.

feeling very alone.  

I feel like everyone is graduating or getting married, and here I am, dependent on pills and company, not able to know what I want even a day into the future.  

please pause.

dear friends.

it would seem that i have allowed myself, lately, to become somebody that i don’t know at all.  indeed; somebody i do not want to know.

work, sleep, stress, repeat.

and, as is so often the case with these kind of things, you get so stuck in the motions that you don’t even realise how much you have strayed from who you are, until someone or something takes you by the shoulders and shakes you up and turns you upside down and slaps you about a bit.

It’s like i’ve been living for such a long time, just looking down and trying not to trip over, that i havent actually looked where I am going, and suddenly I find myself very far away from where I want to be, with no real recollection of how I got here.

so this is me, apologising for being out of action for a (long) while, asking you to be patient while i sort myself out again.  i think i’m going to get back to the helen basics.  im going to read, im going to make music, im going to dance all alone in my room.  im going to go for walks and sit outside.  im going to write.  more importantly, im going to get back to the people who know me best, who make me happiest.  they are the best part of me.  im going to reply to emails and letters and hope they can forgive me, in time, for not being around much lately.  i’m going to hope i can learn to love life all over again and, in the process, become someone worthy of the people i am lucky enough to love.

x

eating raspberry swirl icecream with the 5 year old in the backyard in the evening sun.  his world is a mess but he’s too young to know.

last night the kids parents were downstairs, screaming about a divorce in front of the kids.  im in my room and i can hear them, and then i hear footsteps and a knock on my door and its the eight year old.  she looks at me and bursts into tears, and says helen they’re so mad, what if they hurt each other.  they’re so mad, it hurts my ears.  so we hide under her bed and i sing her songs about mermaids to drown out the noise, and we turn that little nook under her bed into a magical underwater palace.

and she tells me she’s not crying its just the ocean water on her face.

"i would sell my soul, for a soul worth keeping"

beautiful sunshine.

riding my bike, riding waterslides with friends, eating chinese at midday, exploring streets i didnt know of, icecream cones, organic vegan grocers, street magicians, early starts, second hand book stores, punting in the evening with friends, sitting for an hour on a street bench listening to a busker, speaking to a homeless man about the beauty of music, eating strawberries by the river, reading at the bus stop, picking wild daffodils, warm baths and coconut oil.

im going to be ok.