Springtime has always been kind of daunting, but I am starting to understand what Hemingway used to see in it. You should always look forward to a new beginning and leave the past behind you. Having said that, I must admit that today I’m doing the complete opposite. I’m consumed by nostalgia in a very soothing and pleasant way. I remember feeling productive and at peace in London, probably because there were no commitments to make me feel guilty and never did I realise that I was, in fact, a very selfish person. Other people reflect you – that is true, but I would only spend a short amount of time with people. I was never able to handle more than a little. I can now, though, but I’m not happy with the self-discovery that I’ve made.
Do people still choose what they think they deserve? What do you think you really deserve?
One scary thing about growing mentally and emotionally is that, at first, it doesn’t feel like you’ve grown in any way, but your new perception indicates all the learning for you. But with each new perception, I feel like a part of me has died sometimes, as though I’ve lost touch with my imagination. It only comes back gradually when I write to the music that gives me enough warmth to be present. With autumn being my favourite, I’ve always had the chance to dwell and reflect during it, and I get ideas for writing. Things are coming to an end, and yet they need time for digestion. I love it because people start to get sick and stay inside, and I’m the only one out, or at least it seems so. Spring is more about spring cleaning and getting ready to launch. It’s a reminder to get started. Like the new book I’m supposed to be writing.