I got rid of almost all art suppliers. It makes me anxious. But I can now use my spare bedroom. I will probably sleep in it today, or at least I’ll try.
I remember how a year ago I used to write quite dramatic posts from my bed in a hostel in Tomaszów. Anxiety over my mum being in care and me not having a job didn’t prevent me from doing that. But now, I somehow can’t. I’m sorry.
Or maybe I feel that writing became a for of escapism? I don’t really know. But rest assured that I am somehow coping… somehow.
There are loads of thoughts I’d like to share with you but somehow I feel, today is not a good day. Take care guys; all 5 of you. You make my blogging feel important.