Lately, Fridays have assumed the structure of spending almost all my waking hours in a kitchen, and today was no exception. It felt like I’d lived a lifetime at work; then I checked my watch, and it was only two o’clock. How? Why? By what reasoning? Such fundamental questions as to who doles out the passage of time.
My digestive system has become quite reliant on curry, and is in disarray when without it, instead of the usual opposite. I enjoy starting and completing the entire process of cooking, listening to my own music, and with no interruptions. Carried on with the glory soundtracks afterwards. I don’t know if the music teaches me what to think, gives my mind permission to realise itself, or both. Was lying on my bed with the Father, trying to work out where I’m going wrong, and ended up receiving his loving embrace.