I was so desperate to leave church by midday but couldn’t work out why. I sent round a flurry of texts hoping to find at least one friend who was actually in London. Someone who required minimal effort, who was fun to be with, who could cheer me up, and who got me. Thank goodness…
Virginia Woolf: I miss London life. Leonard: This is not you speaking, Virginia. This is an aspect of your illness. V: It’s me, it is my voice! L: Not you. V: It’s mine, mine only… L: It’s a voice you hear. V: It is not! It is mine. I am dying in this town. L:…
*Ok, so I don’t actually mention conservatives in this blog post, although they’re lurking implicitly in the background. Nevertheless, I include them in the title for the satisfaction of a soundly evangelical three-points-beginning-with-the-same-letter approach for those of you who’ll appreciate that… My research proposal is getting me down. It’s technical, number-centred, and requires precision and…
I like the second half of the week. It’s when I exchange the classrooms of SOAS for the College of Northwest London where I mentor an Afghan teenager. Just back from there now. I’m internally warm from cycling through the frostiness but my ears are bright red, icy and tingling. Must get one of those…
Settling down on the train, I replay the conversation in my head. It just got a bit hard, he said, when he hit his mid-twenties and the conventional wedding/kids/property route wasn’t the one he was walking. When his work with the poor raised a different set of questions to those addressed on Sundays. His decision…
emilyintheworld 