Generating an Air full of Edges

After a quick scoot around the charity shops this morning, and briefly meeting with Em this afternoon, I headed back to the bedsit at about 3:00pm. I spent the next couple of hours taking photographs of my artwork. I managed to do 35 all together. It is, hopefully, my intention to upload them all onto another blog, though this will all depend on whether or not blogger will allow me to upload photographs. We shall see.
So the afternoon turned to evening, and the bedsit worked its usual maleficent magic on me, and by the time that it had reached 7:00pm, I could no longer stand the atmosphere of edginess in here and fled the house. It is almost like being a kid again, and going upstairs to the creepy room (only creepy because it would be night-time and everyone else would be downstairs, far far away). At first it would be okay, and you would get on with whatever things interested you as a kid. At first you would ignore a growing uneasiness, a swelling feeling of cool disquiet... To acknowledge such a thing would surely make it worse, so you would carry on playing, and the feeling of spookiness would grown and grow, until you could no longer stand it and would have to flee for the safety of the living room and 'That's Life' or whatever else would be on the television. The bedsit is beginning to feel a bit like that, only instead of an eerie feeling of encroaching supernatural incursion, which would be interesting, the bedsit tends to generate a feeling of dull and desolate panic. A melancholy that intimates nothing will be okay ever again. As soon as I leave the bedsit, the feeling lifts. Usually after a short while.
I went down the seafront. The air was heavy and hot and complicated, the promenade full of foreign students playing football, and a massive greenhouse set up for the Brighton and Hove beer festival this weekend. I sat on a bench for a while, and watched people in the water. Summer holiday happiness. A man fishing off to my right. The sky was all violet, layered with fading purples. Summer twilights seem to last forever.
I went to the petrol station down by the swimming pool, rang Em and met her after college. I walked her back home and then came back here. The bedsit isn't too bad when night falls -even if the nights in summer don't really feel like night-time - more like a dimming of the sun rather than the sun being switched off.
Back to work tomorrow, my six days off now sadly, and far too quickly, at an end.