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Donne said that the hardest lesson/realization in life is INCONSTANCY - that things are never lasting but always changing. I believe that. I've often taken comfort from movement myself. And here I go again, moving house (back to Devon) some friends can't keep track. And when I have to stay in a place for an extended period of time I'm so restless I end up visiting everyone. I think, the only kind of constancy I want in my life is the kind that comes through love and self-love - that placid euphoria of metling in to life like it's a warm tide, where you shrug off anxieties, paranoia, all things that keep you weighted, and you just feel like you're breathing in life. Me and Lesh have spoken around this, and how we both try to find paths to meaning (ones that aren't too fragile, but are reliable) as we both feel that others, or pervasive culture, can be a threat, can drain meaning away, make a joke out of existence. There are some sort of ... gateways to that feeling of being overwhelmed by meaning/life. One thing we share is our love of going off in to the forest. And then, when you slowly walk back down from the hills after the sun has set, you see the lights and purposeful streams of trafic and the blocks of houses and you feel like you're walking, willingly, back in to a cell. The opressive vacancy and greyness, the flickering tvs, the blaring lights of supermarkets. And then your soul sighs.

I might make the theme of my next issue of Cats Teeth be 'Inconstancy'.

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