Oh, hello world. Nice to see you again.

I will admit, when logging back into my blog for the first time in “oh, awhile I guess … but like. I’ve been busy. House is on Netflix now.”, motivated by the energy, spirit(s) and the peer pressure of the New Year, not to mention turning Twenty-Fucking-Five (and by “not to mention”, I mean “I intend to write 18 posts on this subject alone”), I did not realize that it would be exactly 18 months, down to the day, since I had written my very first post. A first post that, in all honesty, I’ve very much enjoyed reading again now. I think I captured, for once in my life, quite succinctly how I was feeling. When you have as many feelings as I do (so. many.), expressing them in a way that others understand becomes quite a challenge. So was proud of the post in that respect.

What I disliked about the post? I’m not sure how much things have changed since then. Litmus test: “I hate London.” The first line of my first post. Do I still hate London? Well. I’d say London and I tolerate each other. London is that colleague you have who is nice enough, I guess, but you have little to nothing in common with. You can politely discuss your weekends when you have the misfortune of requiring coffee at the same time, but beyond that, you’re quite happy to let each other co-exist without giving each other must thought.

That’s the nonchalant way of putting it. The truth is, I think I’ve made myself numb to London. Perhaps as a defense mechanism, perhaps as a survival tactic. But the point is, when you’re a naturally emotional and full-of-feels individual, being numb is a very unnatural state. And strangely, it becomes more depressing than being well, depressed.

So. Here I am, 18 months later, still drinking the same shit red wine and still wanting the same thing, really – to be excited and energized by my environment. Just coming at it from a slightly different state. But more on that later.

LT x