I’m standing at the kitchen counter frying a steak, which I’m going to eat with chips, which I will liberally adorn with grated mozzarella and coleslaw. My vegetable is to be pickled onions. My right forearm is being spattered occasionally with hot fat from the griddle pan, which means my computer is probably in the firing line too. I’m listening to Thinking Sideways. Well, it’s on. I’m mainly listening to the extraction fan as I turned on the wrong ring on the hob and didn’t notice I was cooking a tea towel. I’ve just been enjoying an easy, quiet life lately. It’s not the most productive life, but it’s peaceful.
I’m reading A Little Life by Hanya Yanigahara and I’ve just binged all four series of Line Of Duty. I still listen to The Archers every night before I fall asleep. I dig the tender aesthetic of Harry’s album in a big way: you flower, you feast. I haven’t got a plan, but I’m free and no one is holding me back.
Born to be wild,