On my way to Bali I started reading my first book by Joan Didion. The Year of Magical Thinking. Not the happiest of books, seeing as the topic of the book is losing a loved one and the thought processes that follows. But the book resonated with me without saddening me.

This same topic came up at the party I attended the night before. I was talking to this girl about her wanting to become a nurse. Five glasses of wine into the evening I asked the personal question : How would you feel about telling a family that their loved one is gone? 

Her reply, like Didion, resonated with me: When you’ve been there it’s easier.

Life changes in an instant. You sit down for dinner and life as you know it ends.


When I am alone I read books and react without inhibitions.

When I am alone I dance around in my room in my underwear.

When I am alone I watch endless amounts of episodes on netflix.

When I am alone I relax.

When I am alone I reflect on where I am and where I want to be.

When I am alone I laugh at old memories.

When I am alone I dream.

When I am alone I am not lonely.


So being a kind of shut in/drunk party girl I tend to spend my hang over days in the fetal position with anxiety reading books that make me feel better. Above are to books that did just that.
They are crazy and funny and make you wish you were on ADHD medicine/cocaine even though you don’t need it just to have your brain work that way that fast.