Tuesday, 8 January 2013
It's not a question, I think, of having even less to say than before. More that none of it seems worth saying any more. Everything's about struggling for a life, and the chances right now seem about fifty-fifty. Therapy helps a bit and so does meditation. Work helps - and also doesn't. Taking photos helps, and being in the country helped a lot so needs to happen more often. This is not a bubble of self-involvement: many people and things matter very much to me, but writing about them doesn't seem to - or else the things I'd like to write about are much too personal to someone else. And then, the long hours spent copy-editing are quite enough in the way of words; I read less too, and more discriminatingly, which is probably a good thing. And that's enough evaluation, enough reasoning. Mostly, anyway, reasoning and evaluation feel beyond me. So, still here, but very few words.