4th January 18

Welcome to my head. I hope you enjoy your stay here. I’d like to take you on a guided tour, although I’ll warn you, some of the edges get a little dark, so you may want to bring a flashlight. You’re about to embark on an emotional rollercoaster, through soaring, squealing highs and blinding, numbing lows. Prepare to have your own mind blown by the vast expanses of my tumbling brain. So roll up, roll up, ladies, gentlemen and anyone in between, and welcome to my head.


Take a step in my direction and on your left you’ll see the Carnival of Youth. The wooshing, swooshing memories of ferris wheels and sweet sticky candy floss. The smell of summer and the days spent running around the park on small scraped legs. A helter skelter of movie nights, whipping hair, muddy knees and tummy tickles, will make your head feel dizzy and will fill your eyes with stars. Pay no attention to the boarded up stands and the cracks in the pavement, this is the place of laughter and smiles.


On your right you’ll see the Forest of Things Forgotten. Feel free to roam off track and peer through the trees, into my deepest memories. Please don’t be weary of the haze – it gets like that up here sometimes. In some spots, the haze clears and you’ll see happy children picnicking, a family celebrating an eight birthday, with a gap toothed little girl doing cartwheels through the grass. In another clearing, girls in pink and white checked summer dresses, twiddling each others plaits and laughing, their freckled cheeks rosy, school bags in hands. The paths are overgrown now and a little bit over trodden, but the memories remain, and laughter can still be heard pouring out between the trees.


Take another step forwards and enter the River of Friends. Some of them have been washed away, but others remain, their bodies strewn on the grass, their arms lazily tucked behind their heads. They laugh and chatter, oblivious of the raging river at their toes. This is the lightest area of my head, so feel free to stay and bask in the warmth. It’s happy here. It radiates.


This way, this way, be sure to keep up. Ahead of us is a darker corner where cobwebs are starting to form in the corners. Brains get like this sometimes, and my head is no exception. Avert your eyes if you don’t want to see it, but really it’s best that we talk about it. This corner is dusty and dark. There is no laughter pouring out of it, and its bubbling darkness is trying to spread. It’s creeping towards us, so mind your step, everything that it touches it engulfs.


Inside this corner, things don’t feel quite right. Everything looks a little skew and a little hazy. See how the Carnival of Youth and the Forest of Things Forgotten look just a tiny bit more grey from over this end? This is what the cloudy corners do. They make even the good things look more bleak than they really are.


So welcome to my head and all of its wonderful attractions. At night, the sky is streaked by golden sunsets, tinged with purple and pink. The moon grows to double its normal size between these walls and treats us all to its hazy glow. In the days, the sun beams down and everyone’s skin glows bronze. I’m working on building up the walls, to make sure that the dark corners stay where they belong, and don’t start creeping in to the main attractions. Sometimes there are nights where the entire place gets engulfed in the grey, but other nights, even the corners glow. Those are the nights when it’s worth it.


So welcome to my head. I hope you enjoy your stay here. I’m keeping it open, because the corners feel that little bit less gloomy this way.