Flat-hunting in London - Part II

I haven't manged to write a single thing here for weeks. A blank April.

I went over to London again to look for a place to rent and was staying in a computer-less house which made writing anything here not obvious.

The main reason, though, why I didn't was that I went into an emotional state as I travelled around - in fits and starts - looking at places, a state set off my feelings about, and memories from, my past in London (1986-97).

The feelings and memories seemed - almost - to be physically coming out of the gaps between the bricks in the Underground, out of buildings and places that I passed, as if there were some kind of black communion between London and recesses of my mind of which I had next to no control.

I managed to keep my head above water but it took weeks to settle on a place. I am moving, finally, next week, to Pimlico.    

I won't try to describe my state here further.

If writing is important to one, as it is to me, writing something very cursory, such as this, about what seems beyond one's writing capacity, is salutary, I feel. To signal in writing a difficulty about writing on a subject is already a first step, I think, somewhere.         

Comments

[bea]

hi conor. interesting but not that interesting if you are talking about flat hunting. you should put in some pictures or something, because otherwise we will all be snoring half way down.