the3six5 Project
I wrote a blog post today, actually, I guess I'm writing two, but the first one was for a project called the3six5 Project. It's such brilliant, yet simple, idea. For every day of the year, someone, somewhere, writes a blog post. They are all posted on this site, and present to the world a huge melting pot of people everywhere. They are funny, sad, sweet, touching, personal, outrageous - anything and everything.
It was brought to my attention by Aaron Bateman via Twitter, and seeing that they wanted people for 2011, I thought 'sod it, I'll give it a go.' Why not. The post can only be up to 365 words long, and can pretty much be about whatever you want (within the obvious limits). A wonderful concept.
So here it is. My March 13th 2011.
I slept terribly last night. I’m a very light sleeper, so if I wake during the night (3am on this occasion) then I know it’s due to an external influence, as opposed to, say, a bad dream. Last night, it was a smoke alarm. A smoke alarm that had run out of battery so suddenly, that it had apparently bypassed the usual brain shattering beep and instead moved on to a dull, pathetic yet piercing ‘tick’. Comparisons of water torture abound, suffice to say it resonated around my skull while I decided it would be easier to close the bedroom door rather than find the source, as is so often the case in the early hours.
Sleep affects my state of mind so much. Just yesterday, as I cycled home from the centre of Copenhagen, I quite literally let myself be bathed in spring; the smell of the air, the positively palatable taste of the season, and the odd fact that even though the light may just be ever so slightly different, things look completely transformed. I caught myself in one of those rare moments when you suddenly realise that everything is going to be OK. Wonderfully – and unusually – I stayed in this frame of mind for the rest of the day. Life was just blissful.
Enter smoke alarm.
Today, life is still great – really it is – but I’m weary. While it may still be spring, it’s not as bright as yesterday. My body, normally alive after a trip to the gym, is heavy, and my mind is occupied with presentations and work for the coming week. Maybe if I traced my bicycle ride from yesterday, and let the spring air flow over me, maybe then I’d find the joy from yesterday. Maybe if I just went for a walk, and thought positive thoughts. Maybe if I closed my computer, and met up with a friend. Maybe if I sat with my love, and let her tell me how lucky we are. Maybe if I just lay down on the bed, closed my eyes, and told myself that everything – everything – is going to be OK. Maybe then I’d let myself go.