Listening to: Opeth
Reading: About six things at once
Watching: myself fight to survive
Playing: Toejam and Earl: Panic on Funkotron
Eating: Ciabatta mmm
Just to let you know, some stuff happened and hurt my hand. I can no longer draw. I can barely even write, it is a struggle and even my signature has changed dramatically. So all the pictures that you see in my gallery are now strictly limited edition. Every time I put the tip of the pencil to paper, it goes about a milimetre off where I meant to put it. Sometimes left. Sometimes up. Sometimes right. But mostly left. My nerves are shot and my muscles are wasted. The doctor said that if it hasn't healed by now, it probably never will. That's the reason why there's been so much creative writing in the blog as of late - need to get the creativity out somewhere.
When I read 'The Time Traveler's Wife', I always thought that the most tragic part was not the ending, but the scene where Henry enters his father's flat to find that he has ruined his hands and can no longer play the violin. I thought it profound and was utterly taken with it. I didn't know why. Now I do know. I was reading my future.
I feel numb. One day it will sink in. And when it does I do not know what I will do.