….when interesting people talk I focus so hard that miss what they’re saying. Mouths are incredibly distracting. 

I’ve lost my bracelet. 

I hate feeling out of my depth, but strangely not when I’m in water. I’m not though. In water I mean. 

I’m not fond of rap, but I’m in love with poetry and the two seem to merge seamlessly. I don’t have the talent to add music to words, but if I could, I’d want to come this close. 

Such arrogance, but fed from insecurity. Writing about experiences is hard, but it’s the deepest most poignant resource we have. Imaginary is so simple in comparison. I find it almost impossible to search for inspiration, the obvious will always be obvious, but inspiration finds you. Once it has you can’t ignore it. 

I rested my head against the bus window last night and felt the vibration in my bones. Shop windows full of flashing lights screaming of “must have” things.  Dummies dressed to convince us of how we could be, as we pass through shop doorways. Faceless plastic….what a perfect place to be. 

On the homestretch now, the same vibration in my bones. Longing for some silence, a picket fence on the greenest expanse a view of the ever changing ocean bathed in light. 

Can things ever be that simple and would it be everything you hope for?  You can’t dip your toes in just to test a theory, immerse yourself. Damage limitation? Save it for business meetings. 

People who can describe themselves, who can claim  categories that they change as often as their clothing. The closed books with the well worn pages and overused lines. I can’t find comfort in falsities. 

Treat love like it’s “a limited resource” like this time might be the last time. Remember how good happiness can feel. Look carefully at who’s behind the trigger before you dodge the bullets. 

I saw a man on the bus last night laden down with bags and balloons. Shop bought romance and gestures of love. 
He looked happy and I think that’s the point. It’s easy to become cynical about the commercialism of it, but the bottom line is love it’s up to the individual how they express it.

Personally think words are always enough. Not quoted or necessarily eloquent, but heartfelt and honest.

Words, never in short supply nor affected by the markets. Language is the gift we’ve all been given in equal measure.

For the lonely…. You will be loved. You will be someone’s universe. You will make their pulse race and they will cherish your embrace. Let the right one in.

Happy Valentine’s Day. 

I still dream of you, sometimes in fragments, sometimes it’s like you’re right beside me. 

Words are mumbled as if it’s best not to hear them. They hang in the air still. 

I can’t recall the last words we said “love you” “goodbye” perhaps on a Sunday morning in January…..the 15th. 

Goodnight 

Just watched A Study in Pink for the first time in so long. 

Sherlock showed genuine kindness even affection to John right from the start. 

“I’m in shock, look I’ve got a blanket” 

Wonderful episode.  

One of the things I really like about Sherlock is the wait between seasons. Gatiss and Moffat being another. It’ll never be sepia toned tv. 

Some people don’t like Martin Freeman because he can only be Martin Freeman. That’s exactly the reason I love his character. I like that “the boy next door” doesn’t have to be a beefed up superhero. I like that normal is allowed to be part of the insanity.  “Nothing happens to me” 

Hoping for a UK tour announcement very soon. 

Even the brightest of lights can leave you completely in the dark. 

Six weeks until spring. I long for lighter, warmer mornings. I’ve never liked winter and that feels tenfold now. How moods seem to stick at this time of year like cloud in a valley. 

Soon the crocuses will shoot up through the soil. Such tiny delicate flowers, but such lust for light. 

If anything is getting me through the darkness it’s the thought of the months ahead. Riding it out for now.