The silt in my mind has been settling out. I’m feeling more like myself. I’ve been trying to finish things — projects, books, whatever — and not immediately start new things, so eventually I can clear out my backlog of brain clutter. Years’ worth.
I need clarity. I need quiet. When I’m on my own (so much of the time these days) I like silence. It’s not oppressive: it’s utter calm. It’s the only way I seem to be able to hear my inner voice, which is hoarse from almost never speaking.
What’s that you say?
Sinful Sunday: It’s all about the image.