On Worrying

I must apologise for my lack of action on this blog. Before we left Turkey I had decided that I would do a post every single day. Some text, some Cool Things, some pictures. For a while I managed to keep it up but gradually that fell by the wayside and packing up out apartment and moving to England took precedence.

I’m back now and again I will try to post a little something everyday. When I was doing that before I found the Likes, Views and Follows increased day by day so really it is only a matter of time before some big shot Hollywood producer sees my blog and says, ‘Kid, I like your style! We’ve been looking to make a movie that’s a hodgepodge of surreal stories, writing advice, context-less pictures and weeks and weeks of word counts, here’s a check for a bazillion dollars!’

At the moment I’m back in England living with my mum and dad and preparing my visa for my eventual move to Australia. It is always weird being back in England. For me it’s like stepping into my own past. I see friends I haven’t seen for ages and I catch up on gossip and we talk about growing up, which is always cool. I go shopping and hang out at old haunts and see how the area has changed in the time I’ve been away.

I also spend a lot of my time worrying. I worry about bumping into people I have fallen out with. I worry about bumping into ex-girlfriends even though my ex-girlfriends are lovely and I have nothing to worry about. I worry about secrets being unearthed even though there are none to be unearthed. I worry that I will never finish my novel. I worry that I will finish it and it won’t be very good. I worry that I will finish it and it will be very good but it won’t get published. Or it will get published but won’t sell. I worry that I won’t get cleared for my Aussie visa. I worry about running out of money. I worry that my wife and I will spend too much time getting established and making money that we will forget to have kids. I worry about my weight. I worry that I should have started writing earlier or that I should have gotten good earlier. I worry that I’m no good at all. I worry that I worry too much.

Flashback to December last year and this post. I had said I would be more mindful and I tried it for a while and I got quite good but obviously somewhere along the way it has slipped so I need to get back on top of it and stop worrying. Re-reading this post makes it look as though I am crippled with worry and barely able to drag myself out of bed and that is not true. I am ill at ease all the time would be the best way to describe it I think. I find it hard to concentrate without my mind wandering to a worry instead of a scene or a tasty line of dialogue.

My mum says that worrying is good though, it must work, she says, because most of the things she worries about never happen.

Here’s some pics from our recent trips so that you can read this and say, Oi, whining ass, stop worrying and enjoy yourself, after all life’s too short:

Selfie at the top of The Shard

Selfie at the top of The Shard

Selfie at Sagrada Familia

Selfie at Sagrada Familia

Baby seflie!

Baby seflie!

Lovebirds in Chester

Lovebirds in Chester





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