I haven't been writing much (online or in general, even on Gladys!) lately as my concentration has been so bad. In the last couple of months I have been suffering with terrible bouts of insomnia. Previously I had been staying awake for three or four days at a time, until my body would just crash. I thought that it had stopped (I am not really sure why it is happening) but I seem to have hit another bout too. It's Tuesday evening and the last time I slept was on Saturday night. I have tried to just get into bed, listen to quiet music, read a book, watch a film, but my mind is wired and just will not let me sleep. I have been mostly productive over the last 24 hours by redesigning my portfolio website. It's been a while since I dipped my toes in a bit of web design, but I do enjoy being creative in that respect and it's always a pleasure going back through years of images.
I have become quite obsessed with Florence & The Machine's cover of "I Can't Speak French" (originally by Girls Aloud. I don't normally put MP3s online but if you want to hear it, it's here. I saw her at Glastonbury and remember feeling a bit violated, but perhaps it was due to it being on the Sunday afternoon when my body was practically dead and I was, again, unslept. Incidentally, her song Girl With One Eye is really good too.
I took a knife and cut out her eye
I took it home and watched it wither and die
Well, she's lucky that I didn't slip her a smile
That's why she sleeps with one eye open
That's the price she paid
I had a rather quiet weekend. Spent Saturday milling around the house, then had dinner with Lady Doom & the boys. Saul popped round and suddenly I was quite drunk (damn wine creeping up on me again) and soon I was spilling out with secrets and insecurities like an entirely undesirable psychopath. Oops. On Sunday I aptly visited another mental asylum with A. It was a rather spontaneous adventure, decided quickly in the early afternoon. We've been to this one before but we discovered some more randomness. It was eerily silent and glum outside. Each time we passed an open window on the ground floor it was very odd - looking out from this abstract dereliction into the warm colours of the autumn leaves. Very beautiful. I have become obsessed with photographing peeling wallpaper and lightswitches, again. I think what I love most about visiting asylums is the evidence of previous human existence. I love being able to see that it was actually lived-in, that people have made their mark. I find that incredibly emotive and moving.
Mostly when I am in these insomniac modes I don't seem to eat either. I've eaten nothing for 24 hours and don't even seem to be hungry. But I do luckily have a yummy boyfriend that loves to cook, and is damn good at it, so I am now going to head over to his for Spanish tortilla goodness and a whole lot of loving.