1.I’ve spent November withdrawing, spending my nights in the gym instead of da club, feeling lonely on the weekends. SAD sad, my friends have prescribed a daylight therapy light box, mulled wine, and a grip.
2.i got the overground from highbury & islington to peckham rye, the train journey bracketed by walks though soggy-leaf saturday rain. It was 4pm and overcast/i thought, GCSE English Literature Pathetic Fallacy/
and 3. i got under the arcadia missa arch for Emily Jones’ show and felt a little better. There was a tangled light bulb hanging, next to a suspended glass bauble terrarium that was carrying soil, succulents, and an opal. .looming still over a white tiled platform that had a bible quote written inside one of its squares, in bouncy graffiti font/i thought, GCSE Religious Studies Agape.
and the scene was good, like wholesome good. the tiled box was low, its edges curved, comfortable/ I was glad to be with light, plants, and opals, plants n opals.and I decided it was better not to know, not to talk. the scene was focused. for me, it was healing.