A long day of not much in the morning followed by a lot in the afternoon. Packing, packing packing, owing, getting the place cleaned up. Or rather, getting the place into a state where it can be cleaned up. Tomorrow there’s moving boxes into storage, and who knows when they’ll be opened again. Hopefully sooner rather than later. Today, though? Just about preparation.

There’s been preparation on prior days of course, and there’s still more to go. There always is. It never ends. you keep on going and then you’ve a nice box collection, and with that, your life is now all in boxes. It’s boxed up.

Boxed.

It’s taking some time and I could be going faster, but I feel it’s better to not overexert myself right now. I need a good sleep, and hopefully that comes to me tonight, because I am exhausted. Not sure if it will, however, and so I’ll keep taking my time. Try to do six boxes a day. Not sure how achievable that is and I did slip a little today, but if I keep at it, I’m sure I’ll have everything done in a few days.

From there, I will then be sleeping in a place with little else beyond what is essential. As hard as it would be, it’s better to get to that point. Clear everything out. Spend less time looking at the things that are part of my life, have them all gone. All hidden away, taken to elsewhere.

In a way, life feels transient. I’m seldom in a place for long enough to feel fully anchored, and what I leave behind are ideas of what was. A history that doesn’t really exist. It’s tiring and I’m tired, and I want to stop. I just want to be able to stay anchored for a while. Tend to my garden. Read a book. Write. I just want to write and not have to worry about continually moving. I don’t want to have to worry about how long I’ll be living somewhere. I’m tired of it, but its what I have to deal with, and so I keep dealing with it to the best I can.

You know, put on a brave face, get on with the getting on. Keep trudging through it all and finding where the small victories lie. Push on a little more. Maybe one day I’ll finally be able to settle, and I mean properly. I’m not too old for this, but at the same time I’m feeling like I’m getting there.

When I was a kid, the idea of the security of roots was something I never thought about. It just kind of was, though at the same time there were often some tough, uncertain times. As an adult, I don’t know what’s going on now. I don’t know if anyone else feels the same way. It’s all just lives floating away, floating together, trying to form community and only finding it away from their dwellings.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:48:35

Still a bit of a sad time at the mo, which I feel came through quite heavily here.

Written at home.