Today...

I don't exactly have the tinkle of the pumpkins' "Today" in my head, but I feel like i could run and spin circles with my arms spread wide.
Winterson's column for November is inspiring. I like it when I get a top up of one or two sentences that resonate through my day, or my weekend... pumping hope and smiles that make my cheeks ache.
JM and I have been walking to work from Waterloo, and I feel unbelievably grateful to London for being so sedate and gorgeous in the early morning.
And with Fleur- I have now changed nappies twice, fed and bathed once...how can she be so damn perfect? Family life- what a beautiful thing to aspire to.

Imagine: in your arms transposed the dormant belonging of planets, veering soft around the earth. Less desire, more tenderness.

Even with all the gaudy Christmasness of Oxford Street, I am embracing a fresh and welcome joy. If only we could pull the world closer...

bonfires, fireworks, vanities, rarities

I wanted to disappear- to return, orange folded triangles of yesterday's sunshine, burning slow sand coloured gaps in tomorrow...

I wrote that yesterday. Head full of...head just full.

Guilt like rainwater pummels
regret
doubt
surely some of the heaviest, ugliest words in the universe!?

Also yesterday. Yet it wasn't a bad day. It was slow, and peppered with exploding fireworks (it being the 5th November and all) and full of swimming thoughts about the future and what to do about it.

Well rested, this morning I kissed the dawn, and came, red nosed and happy faced into work, relishing the slap of winter.

Last week at work wasn't great. I was drowning in unasked questions and found it difficult to put certain things out of my head. SO I put my head in the sand instead. Still haven't responded to G's 'email', and, as Balint suggested, perhaps I should just let it go. At least for now. There is evidently little that we will be able to talk about without me getting angry or just sad.
It seems hardly the right time to strike up intellectual conversations.
Why am I so bitter?

But, forgetting the bitterness- outside is clear and cold and resonant with that particular winter hope.

It's all saint's day today. If I was in Budapest, I'd go out and light a candle for Adam. He was, in many ways, the perfect gentleman. And I'd light a candle for Betty, and hope that the sun of the west warms her through today.
I don't know what the atmosphere is like in Budapest- cold has arrived, i know that from mum, but what the political atmosphere is, I don't know. I hope that at least for today, at least on such a day that is non-political nor party specific, people can set anger aside. (I'm starting to sound wanky, I know).
I've been reading news sites and blogs about police brutality, and trying to help by providing translations, because what else can I do? It hurts that I am here when I feel like my place would be at 'home'- . I read a beautiful thing on Winterson's website yesterday. "Nothing done with a good heart is wasted"
On Saturday, there is to be a silent march, a commemoration of when the Russians returned, full force. I only hope that nothing violent will happen this time.
It was Gareth's birthday yesterday- no word.

And time wisps into memories we won't even remember in a year's time.