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Thunderstorms and Sunshine

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Oh Britain, how you confuse me with your rapid weather changes. An hour ago there was lightning, thunder and torrential rain. Now as I type the sunshine is warming my sitting room. Clearly this makes my outfit planning for the day very difficult, but despite this I cannot be annoyed with you. After all, I can't blame myself for my day-to-day moods, nor can I blame the gods for the emotional mirror the weather provides. Today is a good day. Nothing has happened. Either eventfully or emotionally. Sometimes silence and solitude is all I need for serenity.  “Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards.”                                               ―  Vladimir Nabokov
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The Alphabet Years: A is where the adventure begins

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It’s 24 days into 2018 and I’m only now sharing my new year’s resolutions. I am, however, giving myself a pass because mine aren’t just for one year, they’re for 26. Since university, I haven’t planned my life more than a few months ahead. I thought I was a free spirit, but I now believe it was indicative of the opposite – one caged by fear. One that’s scared to plan and be disappointed; terrified to make goals, in case I miss the goalposts. The letter A is for... x While I had an incredible past year of achievements, I experienced something akin to daily stress fractures on my brain, which created fissures and cracks in my mind triggering mania and depression in rapid cycles. Now, I have chosen to unlock the cage: I’m committing myself fully to my creative endeavours all while travelling wherever this wild spirit finds itself drawn to, because that spirit was slowly dying. I was not in a good way. Now, here I am with the vastness of life stretched out before me. These e
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I've been negligent, I know. It's not just you, YOC, it's every piece of writing in my life. I'm suffering from the dreaded...dun dun dun...WRITER'S BLOCK. I'm not even sure if that's the right terminology for what I'm experiencing, because actually it's more that I'm hating everything I've written in the past. Since losing my laptop I haven't written a single new word of  The Hardest Part , my novel-in-progress. Likely because I lost the last 15-20 pages and I'm resentful. It's been stagnating on page 287 or whatever for two months and I now think I hate it. There are parts of it that I love (usually individual sentences), and I know what I'm trying to do, but I'm just not executing it in the right way. I keep opening the manuscript, reading it, becoming exasperated and deciding that before I make drastic changes or toss the whole thing I'll leave it a few days until I'm in a better mood. The thing is I've
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