I would love to do a podcast or a vlog with a doctor. It’s been on my mind for a while now. There would only be one rule: No discussions of ailments.
Starfish chocolates decorate a beach of biscuit crumb and sugar sea glass. The beaches, in their little containers surround two cakes: one a mermaid, and one a Narwhal.
To the British mind Australia is the dictionary definition of paradise.
We live in a perpetual gloom, where the only true communal activity is moaning about how gloomy it is.
I am looking for the easy ability to strike up a conversation without ending up wittering something elaborately boring, or sensationalist, just because I have got carried away with the weirdness of being in a conversation.
The anger of the extremes – the most certain in the least tenable of views – are the ones who have put us in this position. I am sick of them.
Every time I feel comfortable in a friendship group, it all falls apart, and I learn that I was never one of their friends after all.
One of them was asleep on my front; the other one tugged at my hand, slouching her way down the wet, cobbled street. Both were deathly tired.