though love's become a dying ember

i'm sitting at my kitchen table.   scampi, my cat (a.k.a. dame judi dench), is lying at the other end, asleep and snoring.  it's dark outside, i can see my reflection in the window..  

i went to cambridge this weekend.  it was good to go, in a way, it helped me close that chapter. 

i drank too much though and woke up leached of spirit

also i miss my friends

and i keep getting ill.  i need to look after myself.

but i do feel like i have got to a turning point in my life.  all of a sudden a change is going to come.  i sense it.  maybe it will coincide with going to jamaica, my ancestral home on dad's side, to see my grandma who is poorly.  i think i'm going in november.  

time is a funny thing but i have discovered that the best thing to do about it is to understand that it passes and brings new things.  it cannot be fought.  i am getting sick of friends complaining that they wish they were still nineteen because thinking like that only prevents you from appreciating what is good about this year.  we are young, and this is the beginning of something different.

i had a nice evening with my sister, lazing about in the living room.  we had spaghetti bolognese.  she managed to cook a bit of string, too, something i will remember.