Ouch! I felt a sharp shock as I stumbled up the stairs lugging heavy, heavy heavy bags. That must be what they call pulling a muscle I figured.
First time for everything & I limped the rest of the way to Primrose Hill.
I'd planned on walking to Kensington High St. to listen to some carol singing at Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve & walk to Kew on Christmas day, but my calf muscle put an end to such lofty ambitions.
Today is the first day that I've left this house since the Eve of Christmas Eve. Not that I minded staying in. I've got great company in Maude the Cat + I appreciate the silence & especially the warmth.
I was freezing in East London {I regularly found shelter in a Virgin Active Health Club & I spent a lot of time swimming & Sauna dripping. I can now swim a lot better than before}.
Nothing like discovering new places. I don't really know this area as I've always tried to avoid Camden Town as I pick up very negative vibes.
There's always the scent of violence in the air.
Maybe I've landed here because there's something here for me. Probably is.
I've learned to explore all the avenues & indeed today I found a very pleasing route to the West End for my Optician appointment {I limped the 4 miles}.
There's something about walking down a hill.
I've been wearing contact lenses. 5 day trial pack. I lost 3 days worth in the struggle to insert them correctly on day one. I should've checked YouTube much earlier, cos there are far better ways to do it than the optician showed me. Today was the day I became comfortable with them.
The reason I wore sunglasses when singing with Ugly Buggs was because I hadn't learned all the lyrics for our set in Whitby & needed those {prescription} sunglasses to read the lyric sheets. Happy accident that they happened to look great on a Bugg Brother. If I'd had contacts, Johnny Bugg wouldn't be the same.
That's the lesson of this Tattle post...
There's always an upside.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow & that's the greatest head space.
Peace, Love & Pussycats,
J.A.
Tattle
Thursday, 27 December 2012
Thursday, 15 November 2012
ghosts
Was that Brig? No. Looked like Brig though.
Funny how quickly those things transport you back.
It was round here too.
Sometimes I'm in a time machine & I'm right back there.
Freaky. Because you know it's not possible & that everything has changed & you're suddenly full of panic & overcome with future dread.
The low engulfs you as you realise nothing can be changed & what's lost is lost forever in fading memories.
You can't feast on regret.
I walked passed my old door Number 56 in Pimlico.
I wonder how it feels to go & live again in a place you'd left many years ago.
Is there any kind of solace. Or some kind of finality. True closure.
Or just ghosts.
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