I’m sure it’s trite, but there is a lingering sadness in my consciousness today. It’s impossible to sit comfortably in my skin.

I’m not convinced that this is the right way to be though. Perhaps it is the conditioned avoidance of anything resembling a feeling, or the sense that grief is a terrible burden to other people. In any case, I will keep it between myself and this page.

I needed to stop listening to Prince in the car on the way home tonight. It was very late – I’m tired after a long and fractured event – and I just had to put it aside.

Instead I pulled out another guilty (but private) pleasure: Robbie Williams. I don’t have anyone else in my life who likes Robbie Williams… but he has his appeal to silly ex-groupies like myself who’ve never completely forsaken the drive to save someone.

And perhaps there is comfort in that – the fantasy of saving someone…


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