Near window 3

Passive living

The day before the solstice and the coming of the spring brings birdsong into my windows. They are flung wide to bring some of the outside in. If I only have one small corner of sky I want it in here with me.

I have not been outside for four days.

Today I woke up thinking of all the times I didn’t take being outside for granted. Most of these are times I didn’t talk to people or felt anxious about talking to someone.

My alarm clock ticked on playing “everybody’s gotta learn sometime” on RTL2. There was sunshine streaming in, “I need your loving, like the sunshine – everybody’s gotta learn sometime” the soaring strings and at 73bpm I can feel it in my rib cage, underneath my sternum. “Change your heart, look around you”. Those plinky synths climbing the scale, the violin solo? (Or is it a cello? I’m not v good at strings. Sounds like a violin tho) it all culminates in this weirdly melancholic way of waking up. Looking at the sun that I’ve not seen since it put itself to bed in the autumn. Here it rises to spring, but to find no one here to welcome it.

I think about all the beautiful people I have spied on the tube or the metro or at bars, with whom I have made eye contact, but with whom I haven’t ever spoken. What if I had? Would we be friends now, or lovers or enemies, or would you be like most of my past entanglements, something I think about sometimes in the paleness of the morning?

I was watching some TV programme once where someone – I think it was Kathy Burke – said you never regret anything more than not shagging someone when you had the opportunity.

Not to be horny on main, but she’s actually right. I have spent this morning thinking about the things I was too scared to do, to scared to say. Thinking about all the people I’ve been too scared to admit feelings for, even if they’re fleeting. I’ve been thinking about conversations I’ve been to scared to have, or kisses I’ve been too frightened to bestow, or moments of inaction that with hindsight could have been moments of beginning. Even people I’ve been too afraid to tell they’ve upset me, or angered me.

In being forced to live passively, I see the passivity in my life. I cannot act now and I resent the times I could have acted.

Anyway after confinement I will be tell everyone I like that I like them. And tell everyone I hate I hate them. I’m just rlly bored of being inside.

Everyone prefers a film where people don’t declare their feelings: Remains of the Day, The Bridges of Madison County, etc etc etc. That scene where Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson’s hands break contact as the bus pulls away… oh I could pull my own heart out of my chest. To strangled by inaction, by inability to act. Too much. Is “every body’s gotta learn sometime” let’s all learn now. Don’t wait, don’t say nothing, don’t stand still.

If you’re confined with someone you love, tell them that u love them.

If you’re not – as soon as we’re outside, you can come tell me you’re in love with me and we can get started.