CXXVI

19/01: Here I am, all of twenty-three, and I have made peace with silence. Peace with solitude. Peace with uncertain futures and with the creative frustration on the inside of me. Perhaps not all so fully, but I am well on the road to peace (there is no destination, peace is a road, is a river) and that's a far better place than where I once was.

All these demons of youth - those that make us long for places we are not, and people we've never met, and things we know, deep down, we'll never do (but why not) - they are all gone. Perhaps only their shadow crosses my front porch on very bad days, but otherwise, gone. If only I had known that all this too shall pass (though i think i really did know).

Oh life. Oh difficult, long drawn life. The hellish musings of youth only to give way to the damned knowing of age. I say I'm twenty-three, perhaps I know nothing of these things yet. I probably don't.

[Image: Anna Ewers for Vogue Paris]