More Trucks

By the underpass off a busy motorway, the bodies arrived in removal trucks and loudspeakers crackled with instruction. I couldn’t see any other workers, but I could see the fruits of their labour. The air smelled of exhaust and something else my nose didn’t want to process, so I began to breathe through my mouth, coating my tongue with a viscous residue that tasted of old barbecues and over-ripe pulpy mango. There were so many teeth and my fingers grew tired from the strain of ripping the rotting corpses apart to the shouted specifications that grew more urgent and exacting by the minute. More trucks. The conveyor belt moved faster and the voice increased in volume over the loudspeakers, chummy laced with a grit of menace. I didn’t know what to feel but I felt it anyway. It seemed to last forever, but somewhere in there I thought “At least I have a job.”

The Week of Living Intensely

Last week was intense. Like a rich espresso paired with some 80% chocolate, it was both delicious and almost-too-much.

I wrote, taught, presented, read, drew, coded, meditated, socialised and more - throwing myself into what each day held with abandon. There was lots of laughter and plenty of tears. I’ve worked really hard since leaving my job to shape a creative life and it is now definitively coming together (with the small exception of earning money to keep it going!). Last week was a no-holds-barred culmination of many things that had been in the pipeline a long time. Along with the heart-warming wedding of two lovely friends and a spirit-uplifting Zen meditation workshop, I did A LOT:

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