Early dusk gloom,

the semi-migraine caused by the relative glare of the laptop screen,

and that Sunday feeling you get when you don’t fucking leave the house all day.

I want to get out – and not just out of this unfunny joke of a fish bowl I pretend to call ‘home’.

I don’t like London. I don’t belong in London. I’m in London for one reason only, and I don’t how much longer I can keep reconciling myself with that.

I think if someone offered me a job just about anywhere else in the world that paid equivalent to what I’m on now, I’d be out of here like a gunshot, reason to be here or none. And I know my ‘reason’ wouldn’t come with me. Perhaps my reason wouldn’t come with me, either. Presently, I don’t think I care about that.

I want a different life to the one I see myself having, for as far as I care to look, the way things are going right now.

I can’t even go with the impulse to run, because statistically I’m pretty likely to die/get raped doing that here on my own. And I also don’t fancy the carbon monoxide intake.

Autumn Sunday blues. I want to tear something apart.


About Stephy

50% happy, 50% wildly uncertain. 94.7% bewildered, 78% raving mad, 4.5% awesome, 63% tea/coffee and cake. Wearing odd clothes, favouring odd points of view and Drifting Aimlessly since 1991. View all posts by Stephy

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