Writings - Two.

Most people prefer to take comfort in their homes during the run up to winter, but James didn’t, he always wanted to be outside. Every November as the air would dampen and the sky got darker he would sit by the window, staring, smiling, but saddened that I was too busy to take him out. I did not share his love for the season, but I took him for walks when I could. I would watch him content in his quietness, transfixed by his surroundings, absorbing as much as possible. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t change him - my curious, quiet little boy.

Writings - One.

‘The black silk dress, the worn fur coat, never being completely sober. It’s a never-ending self-destructive dream. Men, women, everyone wants a piece, and though their intentions are poisonous their desires overwhelm them and I give them everything I’ve got.’

A little snippet of a developing idea!

Virginia Woolf

When I get my dissertation back I’m going to re-work some of it and post it online; I wish I’d had more time to perfect it. It’s about the impact Virginia Woolf had on the acceptance of transgender in modern society, it’s interesting I promise.

A Step Back.

Trying to gather the fragments of your life together can seem impossible when your mental energy is on a constant low. Assignments. Work. Family. Friends. We rarely take a moment to stop and think about what would be beneficial for our own well being, and sometimes we need to be more selfish, and do things for our own reasons and shrug off the guilt. It’s often difficult to remember how to progress, and getting stuck in the same routine is a drag that can last for as long as you let it.

I found this writing on an old blog I started. This is the only entry, and I’m still in that rut. If I want to be taken seriously as a writer I need to start getting my act together, and actually producing work that people are interested in reading. Better get to it…