Moving back to Norwich so early before term was more of a forced decision than one i made on my own. I had a volunteer position set up every Thursday at the MK gallery, my family, didn't have to buy my own food, bills weren't an issue Milton Keynes was midway through summer of culture, and for the first time in a long time i didn't mind being there...but when the phone rang from work, offering me hours back in Norwich, it was an offer i needed, rather than wanted to accept. So leaving behind the gallery, the full stomach, family, boyfriend and the bicycle i had grown so fond of i made my way back to Norwich, to a new house, on my own.
I have, it is no lie, grown very fond of Norwich over the last year i have been living here, but this time i feel i have been thrown in rather reluctantly and alone. I'm in a new house on a new street alone for three weeks now, two weeks which were without internet. I get paid tomorrow, but the money's going straight to my parents who had to lend me my last rent payment and my cupboards are bare.
When i first was told that i was moving back early, my mum made the decision for me, yes i was a bit upset at first, but i decided to be optimistic. I haven't really produced much art over the summer and i thought being back in my uni town would get me started again, i planned to write, read, visit the library and do research, go to music events and really embrace this wonderful city. However as usual my plans didn't turn out quite how i thought. It isn't really very easy to attend music nights alone, you get funny looks and it's awkward, my mind is still failing to produce any ideas of worth and my pencil fails to mark, my poems are depressing and i forgot my guitar and im not even sure what to research.
I turn twenty-one next weekend and i can't help questioning when my life is really going to begin, because right now i'm tired and its just not the insomnia.
On the plus side my house is much nicer than the mouldy house i lived in last year and once my housemates move in i know it'll be amazing. Its just a matter of waiting i guess, we'll see.
Thursday, 30 August 2012
Tuesday, 21 August 2012
Today is Tuesday
In silence sat,
fleeting time,
seconds wasted
hours speant
idle
alone
not laziness
-fatigue
lost days
The price of company a long walk
communication slow and so
she refuses to go.
Another week of meaningless activity
pointless in her solitude
no bread, no milk
no money to spend
an existnace others remain oblivious to,
a vacant house on a busy street
a face staring out of a window
a glimpse soon disregarded.
The constant waiting
with little satisfaction
The sound of lonliness so loud
insomnia
fatigue
tired eyes, tired mind
tangled thoughts, memory or dream
dream i hope
guilt
for what my subconsious imagines
just a dream
my unreality
seems more real
than the last 245 hours.
fleeting time,
seconds wasted
hours speant
idle
alone
not laziness
-fatigue
lost days
The price of company a long walk
communication slow and so
she refuses to go.
Another week of meaningless activity
pointless in her solitude
no bread, no milk
no money to spend
an existnace others remain oblivious to,
a vacant house on a busy street
a face staring out of a window
a glimpse soon disregarded.
The constant waiting
with little satisfaction
The sound of lonliness so loud
insomnia
fatigue
tired eyes, tired mind
tangled thoughts, memory or dream
dream i hope
guilt
for what my subconsious imagines
just a dream
my unreality
seems more real
than the last 245 hours.
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