A reflective essay on magpies, folklore, loneliness, and the quiet discovery that companionship keeps appearing anyway. On inherited pessimism, avian goblins, and learning not to stop the count too early.
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A reflective essay about hypervigilance, conscious choice, and the exhausting habit of constantly checking whether your feelings, routines, and relationships still genuinely belong to you. On drift, devotion, and learning to trust your own instruments again.
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My 2025 playlist is DONE. Fifty-two songs. No analysis. No liner notes. Just the year, as it sounded. It was a shit year, but we got there in the end. I managed to make something warm and sustaining out of it. And also there were potatoes.
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On music as memory, misdirection, and rescue In another life I would have been a rock star. All ego and wild wardrobe choices, making an artistic choice to stain my fingers black à la Michèle Lamy, and crying at the end of every concert. But the closest I ever got was being a radio producer,…
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This week marks six months of living alone… well not exactly, but also kinda.I share a house with five other people. We cross paths in the kitchen, politely ignore each other’s laundry, and share an unspoken agreement that we don’t discuss the quality of bathroom singing. It’s not solitude exactly, more like a soft coexistence….
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On favourite cafes, small rituals and the quests that begin with a cup in hand. The Nearest Cup My favourite coffee shop isn’t just the closest, though that helps. It’s genuinely good. It sits a few minutes from my front door, right by the train station, perfectly placed between home and the town centre. I…
