Nearly six months have gone by and I still haven’t posted photos of London or Paris. Shame on me. Does it count that the photo above of our feet was taken in London?

I have a feeling that I haven’t because it’s too painful, because it’s a reminder at the latest time in my life when everything felt ok, even if it was just for two weeks. The hustle and bustle of Portobello Road on a Saturday morning, the mulled cider I thought I could drink fully, the anticipation of watching Celebrity Big Brother after a day exploring a city that feels like a second home – all those wonderful memories stirring in my mind again would do more harm than good, and to be frank, I can’t afford that right now.

There are wonderful experiences and important people that I miss and an emotional outburst would not end well, let me tell you.

So I’m keeping my swirling visions of the underground and the patisseries private just for a little bit longer.

And while I have more material to accumulate in this humble space than just my travels, there is a road block preventing me from sharing it all. Perhaps it’s all too raw, or blurry. The thoughts in my head loop around like long strands of DNA and separating them from each other can be quite the challenge. It seems these are all tasks which require concentration and energy, two things I’m running low on.

the sounds of silence prevail, at least for now.