My new flat has finally been painted and I've been able to move back in. It's just a 5-minute car ride to the city.
Dublin is a wonderful place to be and its people, beautiful. As it turns out, I prefer a minimalist effect and my flat is more a working studio than anything else at the moment.

I am collecting the disjointed scenes of my play and trying to piece it all together. It should be finished within the next fortnight. It is hard work contacting theatre producers and such and takes up all the hours. I don't know if my play will make it but I've got to try.

Sometimes, I forget the clock. Forget everything. I may have been sitting on the chair for hours, the central heating still turned off, the lights not switched on. Even my favourite telly shows and treasured books are dismissed. Just me, my laptop and my music in the dark.

Then a friend or a neighbour comes through the door and like a mannequin, I slowly return to life. In the time of writing, I may have been in a trance. Or rather, it feels like it. If you think of a oneness of spirit or a solitary time of peace, this is it.