My nerves feel raw and ragged, my head jangling, overflowing with a million things that need to be juggled and managed. So many projects, or potential projects; so many ideas for things to do and things to change; records to release and records to listen to. Piles of comics and books to read. A house full of books and records and a lifetime of ephemera to move; another new house to settle into and make our own. It’s really quite dizzying and sometimes I feel physically sick. Sometimes I find myself standing still and staring at the wall, not knowing where to turn or what to do. It’s a little bit scary, particularly when I remember the last time we moved house; the effect that had on my sanity and on my soul.
But really, I know it is for the best. I know that another winter in our current cold house would probably kill me. I know that the process of moving all of my collected effects can be turned into a purging activity; an opportunity to unburden myself of things no longer required. I must be brave and ruthless.
It’s a painful process though. Whilst going through boxes stashed in the eaves space of the Geek Lair for example, I found hordes of letters, many from as long ago as the mid eighties. It struck me whilst sifting through them just how many people have come and gone from my life; how many have drifted in, and drifted on, some leaving the barest whisper of an afterglow, some cutting me deep to the bone. It struck me too that such a physical activity is not possible for those who I would count as having touched my life in the ‘e-years’. Many of the emails are of course saved somewhere, and are no doubt archived somewhere on servers the world over, but it’s not the same.
Anyway, all of this really by way of saying that even if I hadn’t had the ‘excuse’ of going to see Smoosh last night, I would very likely have taken a sick day regardless, in an effort to try and calm my nerves, and to attempt to create some semblance of order in my life. Not that a trip to London is particularly good for doing that, and I have to say that it took all of my strength to make the journey to Cargo last night. I admit, however, that it was more than worthwhile, with Smoosh being wonderfully perfect and special. Apologies though to everyone I should have spoken to or spoken more to. And yes there is a part of me that wishes I had said hi to Asya and Chloe and Maria but I’ve never been one for brazenly introducing myself to anyone. My chronic childhood shyness rules over me still in that respect, and I have the horrid English disease of self-deprecation to the point of ridiculousness, of course. But that’s another matter. For now, I’m just glad that I’ve found the time to write something… anything… And I must always remember that it is through words that I keep my world together; that it is through words (and through the music that inevitably inform the words – and to an extent also, the images that populate my realm) that help keep me sane. Or as sane as is possible in these strange times.