There’s a time for drama, anger,
deafening rants, unkindness, hacking (or murder); for making soap-opera
scenes on a busy street at lunch time in the presence of a coachload of elderly
tourists from Shropshire; for judging books by their cover, being scared and
selecting your new self-destruction method of choice.
But I want this to be that time when the sky splits and rain pours down on one side of the office only; a time for looking out for bells
when they ring, for having no direction and following your own feet, for
finding strength, for tattoos you can't hide, for trying, for acceptance,
for more or less feeling less incomplete; and for all those things that come about that spiral and twist and swirl and make your head spin but then one day just surpisingly fall into place.