I don't know what I want to write about, I just want to write. I want to feel like I'm easing the storm in my head at the moment, but I can't begin to dissect any thoughts or emotions from the whole mess. It's like when you put aprons in the washing machine, and they all come out tangled in each other. I spent hours untangling aprons and tea towels as a kid. In fact, I still do when I'm home. I find it relaxing, having one very specific task that literally gets easier the more you do it. Mum would find it frustrating I think. Either that or she just knew I liked to do it, so would ask me to.
I love thinking about the most simple things. I love remembering things that made me smile. I love it when a memory literally forces your face to smile. You can't control the happiness, it's contagious, pure and beautiful.
I find myself not in the mood for particular songs or music, just to certain voices at the moment, depending on what type of mood I'm in. It's bizarre, and it means that most of my iPod is not being used, and instead I'm jumping constantly between the various artists that sound like Charlie Simpson, Tom DeLonge or Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones. It's weird, because even though the music within these artists is quite varied, it doesn't seem to matter. It's just all about the sound of the voice.
Maybe I need to start listening more carefully to voices.
So for now, I have run out of things to type. My mind is still buzzing... Hopefully spring will open my mind and freshen out some of the cobwebs...