I had planned to work on some writing projects today but I’ve yet to get going. It’s solstice but the rain has been coming down relentlessly since I woke up. Motivation to do anything has dwindled and I’ve instead spent the morning practising French, whilst waiting for some videos I shot to compress to the right size. The last hour has been spent reading news articles.
It’s a slow day, but the world around me feels as if it’s moving faster than ever. It’s chaos, a chaos I feel intrinsically apart of but hopeless to change. As a ‘writer’, is it not my responsibility to organise this mess into something coherent? But I can’t, or at least, I feel unable to right now. So instead, I try a picture and some self-relflections.