A few excerpts from my written journal from shortly before and shortly after moving to London, UK.

Wednesday – 06.29.22 

            Sometimes it feels like I’m not as creative as I used to be – like I don’t have as strong a sense of imagery as I used to, and my writing suffers for it. Sometimes I think it’s because I don’t feel things as acutely, or as intensely, as I did before. Or maybe I’m just not going through as many emotionally charged episodes that stir up those feelings – wistful heartache, bittersweet longing, some familiar aching loneliness – that lead to what could be described as slightly masochistic inspiration.

Friday – 08.06.21

Tonight, after I turned out the bedside lamp and closed my eyes to prepare for sleep, I heard a loud, sporadic buzzing near my head that frightened me. I jumped out of bed and turned the lamp back on, exclaiming “What the fuck was that?” to the empty room.

Tuesday - 07.27.21

Today is the first day I wake up as early as I’ve been meaning to for months. I tell myself day after day, week after week, that I’ll wake up earlier – that I’ll take my mornings by the reigns and become one of those people who can sit down contemplatively at their dining room table, leisurely sipping on a cup of coffee, staring out the window and settling into the day.

Thursday - 04.22.21 - 12:49AM

It was snowing when I woke up this morning and by now, when I’m about to go to sleep, all the snow has melted. It seemed unusual for late April. We’ve had a couple of warm spells recently - a couple of false starts to Spring.

It’s hard to be inspired these days. I try to be observant, to practice noticing small details, but sometimes it feels like there’s nothing to observe.

Wednesday - 04.21.20 - 4:51PM

Sometimes I wake up too early and I sit in the living room in the dark, listening to the hum of the fridge or the air passing through the vents - these sounds I never really notice in my fully waking life, that only exist when everything else is calm and quiet.

Sunday - 04.18.21 - 9:38PM

Every sad thing comes with a bit of light - try to notice what happens to be shining through the cracks - what spills through the gap underneath the door - what it is that lets the shadows play. Sometimes bittersweet moments are better than ones of pure joy. There is something so specific and fleeting - the feeling that you are caught in a memory being made.

Saturday - 03.13.21 - 2:09AM

I don’t know what’s stopping me from writing. I keep telling myself I’ll do it later – after the next inane YouTube video, or the next episode of whatever show I happen to be watching – and I keep putting it off.

Tuesday - 03.02.21 - 11:02PM

It’s already March and it feels like everything is moving faster than I can keep up with, even though all my evenings have been steady and quiet and slow. This winter passed by in the blink of an eye and I wonder if it warrants a closer look at global warming. My mom says the city had a string of similarly mild winters around 1996-1997, and I think about how nice it must’ve been, playing outside in the snow (was there snow?) and not freezing to death.

Wednesday - 02.17.21 - 11:22PM

The new year starts off with our family meeting up over a video call, with Othniel and Luz in Montreal, and Orpah and John in a different household. We’d been watching New York’s new year’s celebrations on TV while waiting for the countdown and I remember thinking that the festivities were obviously a bit sadder than usual, though they made a valiant effort to keep the spirits high.