I think I might try taking up writing again. I haven’t really written anything in years and I feel like trying again. I think I have the technical skill it’s just that I don’t really know what to write. I suppose I could do something semi-autobiographical, something scathing of modernity or something.
I’m feeling quite pensive and subdued at the moment too which is always conducive to writing. I have that feeling of just wanting to bury my face in S’s cleavage and sleep and eat nice food and have peace and quiet and not really have to deal with people combined with the odd intrusive thought that I’m a waste of space and a burden to everyone, which is uplifting.
My appetite is something else at the moment; I honestly think that I could eat all day long and when I’m not eating I’m thinking of food, especially meat. That’s a real sign of depression in me: this craving for meat and dishes which are really meaty. At the moment it’s anything with chorizo in it; that paella had a real impact on me and now I’m kinda craving it.