In 2016
I lived in Shanghai
I bought a stove and carried it on the subway
Gorikhala passed away,
I wasn’t there,
The last thing she told me, was to take biscuits
I learnt that mourning alone is not mourning
I travelled alone and told no one
I learned a hysterical kind of solitude
Abajaan died
I wasn’t there
I tried to be there
I was there
I learnt that mourning together is mourning
I learnt the heart of a tree is a heart because of age
I learn to listen to myself
I learnt how to look after myself
I unlearnt an old song
I still woke up with the same tape but different music
Abba cried
My friends bought me cake
I forgave myself
My car got stuck
We went on holiday
I taught creative writing
I took part in a writing festival
Abajaan fell,
I picked him up,
I almost couldn’t
I went on holiday with friends
I wrote about my sand collection
Laure made me laugh
I took a train with JC
I ate duck
I met a stranger
I sang a new song
