The Calm Before The Storm

I don’t actually think I believe in the calm before the storm. The storm always breaks well before the rain, you can feel it in your mind, watch the darkness gathering in the distance, pulling you towards it like a wave rolling towards the shore. Feel the dread in your guy, heavy in the air, saturated.

York was lovely, a truly adorable city, but marred by the doom waiting to tip over our heads, the water balloon already in transit to smash into our face.

You’re never just paranoid. You know when something isn’t right. When something has gone unsaid.

I made myself horribly sick on it and have made the long-overdo pact with myself to give up drinking. Not in a black and white way. In a way that’s like… Why have I ever invested so much time and energy to make myself sick in a new friend’s dirty toilet for a day?

How would I need that when there is this?

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Also, we went to a drag show.

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But now we are back in Edinburgh, waiting out the storm. Maybe one of these days the rain will stop.

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Day Ninety-Four: Happy Beach-ster

It’s Easter, which just happens to be my favorite holiday!

My father and I spent the entire day cooking my grandpa’s classic recipe Easter Pizza (which is a bread shell stuffed with egg, cheese and spiced meats). So good. We cut the first loaf soon. It smells so good, I can’t wait!

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After munching on meats all day, I had to go for a beach walk. Ugly, windy day, but perfect for a beach walk!

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The seafoam crawled across the beach like cotton candy tumbleweeds. It was lovely. I kicked it around, playing a round of seafoam soccer. It covered my feet like foamy boots, up to my knees in places, and jiggled around in the wind like jellyfish.

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On the way back, the wind was wild. I felt as though, if I got enough lift, I could have taken off like a kite and flown away in my father’s jacket.

Alas, Happy Easter.