It's odd sitting on my sofa at 12.12 am and hearing the birds sing outside, though it is dark.
Surreal, almost.

I had a long day today - went to lecture at 12, seminar at 2. Went to Tate Modern at 4. Met dad at 6 for dinner. Went to Waitrose at 8.30. Now I've been home doing nothing useful and I wonder - I wonder how many people had a day just like mine.

I actually feel like creating a collage or writing a poem or writing some thoughts in my scrapbook - but my dad is asleep and all my papers and scrapbooks and journals lie securely behind the closed door.
It's moments like these I wish I had forever. Creativity spurns energy.
I want to run. Run along a deserted beach until I have no breath left. I want to fall on my knees, breathless, lungs gasping for ocean air. I want to feel the sand between my fingers, between my toes, on my cheek. I want to look up and see the stars. I want to hear the waves rolling on to the shore. I want to smell the unmistakable smell of the ocean. I want to feel as if no one could curb me. I want to be everywhere... and there.

Today, I am endless.