This week has not been a good one, I’m frustrated, creatively drained and wondering why. I feel hazy and lacking the eloquence to explain how that feels exactly. I vowed to be honest here with you all and so here’s me saying I’m a little bit messy as of late. And, what have I’ve been up to this week? I couldn’t tell you. There was shopping for cushions I don’t need, falling asleep in taxis, writing strange poems about sex and dodging men that bore me. Everything else is a blur, this sequence of 7 days has been a strange on ; circular in the sense that the uneasiness I feel rolls right into the next morning. As of yet, it refuses to lift, it won’t go away. You see, my life operates in waves, of energy, euphoria, clarity followed by swell of confusion that sinks like snow into my bones. As for clothes? I pull on whatever I see first, thankfully my color coded wardrobe keeps these ‘shove- on’ ensembles from looking their worst. Even on my most foggy days I can find a sweater and hat that match in stone beige or shoes and a bag in the same autumn maroon. The cloud over my head, the wave that rolls in, for sure it is a monsoon, but it will pass. You’ve been here long enough, I’ve written to you in very similar states many times before. I’m not sad or mad, just drained in the same way one might feel after drinking too much. It’s a hangover, perhaps one of the soul? I don’t know.