Getting more sane II

I cycled to the station, as I thought I would get back after the last bus, and when I got there realised I had not brought my lock. So I left the bike at the stand, and as there was a chain left there I draped it over my bike to appear locked. I thought there was little risk of theft: someone would have to want to, and to see my bike was unlocked, and a lot of such people can pick the locks anyway. Serra thought this important- if my bike is stolen, it is someone else’s fault, and not mine. What I had meant was that the risk was limited, and better than hiding my bike somewhere and missing my appointment.

And it’s not the end of the world. I don’t die. The monster doesn’t get me if I lose my bicycle. I would deal with it if it happened.

And on Monday I did nothing but slump in front of the television. I fear that. I fear I have less energy than others, who work full time. For Serra, this is merely what I do for self-protection. Seeing that, I can seek out better ways of self-protecting. Some people stay on the same self-protection life long, she says, which makes me feel good. I am challenging my falsehoods. It does not mean that when I have to take action I will be unable to act.

And I don’t give up till I’m dangling on the end of a rope.

She loved what I had to say about Frank Auerbach: this glorious mix of sensitivity and exuberant self-confidence. Maybe in me, too.

I am no longer seeking an endocrine solution for my emotional lability. I crave that intensity of feeling, because it seems like it is me making the decisions, rather than some inculcated rationality. I want my attraction and aversion, Yuck and Yum, to be completely clear. Yuck and Yum- she likes that. I am pleased. She is not just saying that. My words are good.

Rousseau, la muse inspirant le poete

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