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'Quarantine Journal'. Aloka. April 2020.
I think we can all agree this isn’t like rehab anymore. I’m not excited by the prospect of getting fit and becoming Zen. Rest is no longer therapeutic. That shocking thrill of uncertainty has vanished and now, I’m scared. Madly though I seem to think that I’ll be fine. Even as safety nets are beginning to tear, I believe that a lack of options may suit me. The complete helplessness acts as a comforter and I’m beginning, for perhaps the first time ever, not to feel scared that I’m missing out on life because I’m well aware that in most places life has ground to a halt. Perhaps it’s the fact I’m beta-blockered up to my eyeballs, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything is going to be okay.
'TEFL Training: A Round and Vaguely Helpful Guide'.
Always Katherine. September 2019.
Katherine, my good, kind, American friend, is exactly how you’d expect a good, kind, American friend to be. She’s loud, generous, wholesome, enthusiastic, self-confident, and very good at writing top-tips. When she asked me to guest-write for this blog, I jumped at the chance. This is partly because I’m a failing writer desperate for some structure, (no longer having academic tasks forcing me to write is proving to be problematic), but also because I love my good, kind, American friend, and always want to help her.
White Dreadlocks: Blog Post. Tumblr. 2016-2017.
A year in China.
Current Location: UK
Occupation: Fuck all except watching Jezza K and practicing self-loathing.
17-02-2016
Dear Mr or Mrs Internet,
I decided to write a travel blog so I could read it back in the future and be super proud of the cool things I’ve seen and done. In reality though, I’m not a cool person. Everything I do is either because I want to fit in with people significantly cooler than me or because I want to distract my parents from the fact I’m 21 and still have no direction in life.
'Mud and Misogyny'. Red Ink Vol 1: Rites of Passage; Rights of Womanhood. RED INK. 2o14.
Festivals are difficult for anyone who doesn't like feeling disgusting. Of course it's not impossible to remain presentable. Many of the women I saw looked dressed to the nines and done up to perfection even after four days without a shower, an ability I envy greatly as grace and elegance have never really been my forte.