Sitting here in a building, listening to the new These New Puritans album. Sitting here in a somewhat quiet space, but it’s filling with noise. It’s filling with sound, and so are my ears at the same time.

It has been a rough few days of cleaning and sorting and housework and cleaning and mowing and getting angry and trying to not, but routine is developing and that’s great. That’s a good thing to have in my life at the current moment, because routine is necessary. Things are getting unpacked and the room is taking shape, and maybe this is all my life is at the moment and forever will be. I doubt myself too much, or maybe not enough. But I wouldn’t be someone who relentlessly perseveres if I didn’t keep on trying, and so I keep on trying.

I had these thoughts that I wanted to crystalise and capture yesterday, and now the moment has gone, and that’s on me. I should have worked a little harder yesterday to get them all down, as I feel like now I’m writing about an impression of something that wasn’t quite. The details are missing; the moment isn’t here and so I’m chasing dust. But that’s okay. Maybe.

So I worked hard especially yesterday in cleaning up this place and getting the gardening bin full, and I rested, then unpacked my records, and I had this moment where a bit of the grief hit me. It’ll come and go, of course, but this was a moment that struck out and hit a little hard, and I felt sad, and I’m not sure why. My ex wasn’t that into records and so unpacking them had nothing to do with her, but I guess it’s due to how it’s cementing the change of scenery. I don’t know, but it passed and I carried on.

The whole process of unpacking is tough, however. I’m doing it tired already and I don’t want to be, but I have to, and also it’s cementing a location and I’m not sure how cemented I want to be. I’m really tired and I want to keep on moving, and doing this prevents that in a sense. But I don’t have much a choice anyway, because I need to get a bunch of stuff done and sorted, and I can’t afford to always be moving either.

Beyond that, however, the only way to be able to throw stuff out is to be able to go through things and work out what I’m fine to keep and what I’m fine to get rid of. It’s a process, but it always is. Ultimately I’ll have significantly less over the next few months than I currently have, and that’ll be a good thing once it is all done. Hopefully. But it’s a lot of work.

Sometimes I do wonder if this really is all there is, and maybe my trying to improve my lot in life is pointless, but I’ll keep trying.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:04:19

Fine speed, not good writing. I feel like I’ve slumped, but I’m also working on coming back up, if that makes sense.

Written at work.