For the longest time, all I have ever done is move my life around. The same shit, identical groups of things, rearranged from place to place without a goal. Two days ago, all that changed. Some would have waited for a new year in order to triumph this as some glorious, orchestrated start, but I’m tired of that bollocks, so very annoyed and angry at anyone who uses their existence as a lifestyle brand or the means by which people care about their social media. So, I threw things away, in some cases for the first time since my teens.

Nobody expects you to be a living history. In many cases, the weight of that baggage crushes your soul to a point where it is difficult to discern a consistent identity. Only through the process of poetry, over the past three years, has this fact become clear to a brain that was increasingly distracted by other people’s idea of what was good for me. Coming out of my husband and son’s Covid infections, it is clear how we create versions of reality with which to assuage terrors that are often never really confronted. In my case, 2021 will be where a combination of philosophy and dance music sets me free.

It is time to properly put certain timelines to rest.

I am, undoubtedly, in the best shape of my life. The resilience worked for will remain in place. There will be a return to places lost and forgotten, due to fear and disbelief. There needs to be a reinvention that isn’t because it looks good or someone else decided that was a ‘good’ idea. The only books read this year should be those that challenge my mindset… whilst creatively, everything is in flux. Blogging remains a consistently decent means by which the World is rationalised and summarily understood, so we’ll shove our face to the words for a bit and see where everything goes.

Then, when this is done, I’ll get on a static bike and then lift some weights.

There is no need to change that which already grants me strength.


Today, the air quality is shocking, and I am all about the long game.

I was up early and took my turn. The result is pretty good, I think:

Everything right now has a mental health slant. It’s a good means by which I can act as a decent ally to those whose voices continue to need to be heard. Along the way, it is becoming increasingly apparent who is really listening, and who clearly feels they have nothing to learn. Every day is a school day; yesterday was very enlightening.

It also occurs to me that going forward, educating white people should be a full-time job. There is so much ignorance and horrendous arrogance that needs removing. This seems like a decent plan going forward. I have again this morning educated myself about the amount of sugar in my diet: as that’s something I keep forgetting…

Lots of things are different today, and I like it.

Get Down

This is already a better day than the last couple: mostly because everybody slept, nobody projectile vomited anywhere and I wasn’t required to be an adult at 3am. I’m not capable or indeed competent without a decent night’s kip. Years of my experience as a mother is tainted by being fifteen minutes behind and two hours of sleep short. This morning, however, after a day when an amazing amount of shit just went well…

I have directly interacted with the World of Influencers this weekend. The experience there was, as predicted, very concerning. I have a mutual who’s a political blogger, and they firmly believe that there’s patterns in the miasma of Instagram subgroups and Twitter spheres. They use fandom as a foundation point to tie all this shit together and I am really beginning to ascribe to this as legitimate truth.

I do love me a bit of Austin, in whatever derivation you can present it: from Clueless to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube (which I am dipping in and out of as the mood takes me) there’s so much depth to consider… but it is a story that’s been around for literally centuries, and I feel it’s probably not healthy to get perpetually hung up on the past, however attractive those situations might be.

There has to be a balance, ideally, in what gets heard and seen, and of late it has been far too easy to lose myself in chaos and uncertainty. I’ve also been historically very bad at absorbing new experiences at the detriment of everything else: it’s the obsessive in me that means that these things ultimately derail from a bigger plan. It’s great to be able to have time to be able to do more shit, but not at the expense of losing sight of a greater set of achievements.


My husband suggested yesterday that this might be the moment to stop putting in ‘junk miles’ on the bike and start making some real effort. Under certain circumstances this might have been the beginning of an objective disagreement, but he has a point. Not every experience has to be memorable, but not every exercise just has to be for the sake of the numbers. There is a balance that needs to be struck in everything.

Pushing the envelope takes effort, and thought, and is potentially fraught with disappointment. However, if all you ever do is enough, or is created as someone else’s idea of a beautiful moment, what do you ever learn from it? It is time to reset the timer again, clear the slates… and redefine the next month as a different direction. There are potentially some great projects coming up.

Let’s see if we can make some of them count.