Sunday, 13 September 2009

Relative escapism

So as many of you will know, I've spent most of my teenage years hating the house, county, and basically everything about the place I live in. I've been dreaming of getting out, running away and leaving for the city since I was old enough to go on trains by myself.

In just under four days, this dream will come true. I'll leave Dorset, pack up my posessions, and move into a university-owned flat in London, ready for my first year at Kingston. And yet, I honestly, truly, really don't want to.

When I first started dreaming of London, in my mind I'd turn up to a friend's house with a small bag, some clothes, a guitar and a bottle of Jack Daniel's. Over time, this dream changed, Jack Daniel's became Scotch, the guitar became first a ukulele, then an accordion, and the clothes got progressively weirder. In short, I built my dream and concept of London around who I wanted to be.

Where this became a problem is when that dream became tangible. By the beginning of this summer, it was definite. Come September, I would definitely be moving in to my own* place with a decent laptop, a host of instruments (including an accordion) in tow, and feeling pretty damn good about myself.

But it was not to be. Instead, I'm arriving on Thursday, already broke, laptop-less, accordion-less, with no smart clothes that fit me any more after the splurgiest of summer splurges, a mullet (courtesy of the well-trained folks at Toni & Guy), and a broken tambourine.

Having had my wildest dreams presented to me on a silver platter, the idea of coming back down to earth, and arriving at uni the same formless, style-less, wannabe kleptomaniac musician I've struggled most of my life to not be is depressing beyond measure, and my determination to not have to experience it is reaching the dizzying heights whereupon I'm finally ready to admit that I fucking miss the easy escape afforded by drugs.**

One of these days I'm going to wriggle up on dry land.


*Okay, so maybe not 'my own', but shh.
**I'm truly sorry if this sentence makes no sense. I got bored around 'and a broken tambourine' and I fucked off to go get drunk.

1 comment:

  1. chin up,you will love it when you get there,London loves you! and everyone will love you and your ukes fo sho. I think playing the opening theme to 'The Office' will be a fantastic opener :D x