Peaceful London: A room of ones own

My first week back in London felt a little ROUGH, mostly because I wasn’t really ‘back’. I felt in limbo, confused about what to do with Myself. A month is a long time to be away and in that month of wild helter-skelter partying through Berlin’s bohemian underground of clubs and dungeons, I had completely let go into a gentle free-fall tumbling hedonism.

In London it appears that I *may* have responsibilities (I’m not convinced) being a determined devotee of escapism I have SKILLS to keep the party rolling, tho there is a creeping feeling that some sort of routine could serve a purpose. You may or may not believe that I have been attempting to meditate most mornings, getting in at least a couple of hours of writing each day, and also finding a balance between those mental cogitations and what ever physical exercise is required to shake the twists and kinks out.

A friend (with a more gloomy outlook on life than mine) recently described London as a huge arrangement of ‘Monk cells’ in which most toil away in isolation. I won’t stretch the truth too far by claiming a cloistered existence for myself but I am enjoying the feeling of knowing what I will be doing one day to the next, having space and time to think, and to be achieving something more than breaking a sweat over the next hottie that I happen to have a date with.

Of course we wouldn’t want life to become too academically blinkered, so I’m sure you will agree it’s your duty to assist in starting one or two more happy riots by coming to see Me. It’s the least you could do, consider it a measure of willing obedience, yourself a slave to pleasure.

😉 I look forward to it. x Mz Jane.


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                                                P.S, planning a little website revamp soon!


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