I'm Not Thirsty
I timed my leisurely stroll from the apartment to the gym this morning.
The gym is so close that instead of spending forty-five minutes deciding whether to go or not ... I just go.
The opening to Desiderata has been on my mind:
Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence.
If you substitute silence with solitude it's more appropriate to my life. The solitary life of the writer, always on the outside, looking in. I haven't been writing much.
An ambulance manoeuvred its way through the traffic lights beside Tallaght Hospital and I be like - that was me, nine months ago. Sure, it's no wonder that I haven't been writing much. I mean, come on, my brain was swollen.
Nine months on and I still love that photo.
My jumbo sobriety roll has entered Day 34. I don't have much to say about that, other than there are only 66 days to go, I suppose.
I don't mind. I'm not thirsty.