Thoughts Interrupted
The Muse Letter No. 70
Last week the ceiling came down. I didn’t hear it. I didn’t feel the vibration of concrete and mortar hitting the ground collapsing onto the clothes airer, the coffee table, the sofa I used to sit on in the living room. I didn’t hear it because I was playing records at my partners home.
At 8 pm my flatmate sends me two photos: one showing a huge hole in the ceiling and one of the mess under it. Everything is covered in dust, she writes.
Last week was a lot. My thoughts are interrupted.
I got very drunk a couple of days after that. Celebrating my moving out. Coincidence or fate. Ceiling down or not. I am happy in my new place. I think I am happy. But it is also very hard. This transitioning period from September to October, from “I am used to do it this way “ to “I could also do it that way.” Maybe.