/you can have Manhattan, b'cos I can't have you
I'm currently released for Easter break.
Deb and I are scheduled to meet at London Paddington to leave for Penzance on Tuesday. Everyone's been telling me how beautiful Cornwall is, and I can't wait to take a break from the city!
I was just pondering while in bed one morning: Am I a city or a country pug?
Can I just put this out there: I love partying. I love it with a passion.
Not so much clubbing, but house parties. A place to konk out at and to get as wasted as you possibly can with your bestest and closest friends, then waking up to the scent of KFC in the morning.
If I had a summer home in the countryside, that's what I'd do. Like Gatsby.
Only exception is that I'd have foie gras for brunch instead.
It feels strange to be sitting in K's apartment on my own.
I imagine myself to be a poor writer, (after paying for rent, there's not much money in my account anyway) typing away in a tiny attic in the middle of Paris. But on an iPad. And I can't write to save my life. I need to read so much more, I realised. I feel a little disappointed. I may have lost the ability to sit my butt down and start reading again. Prose doesn't excite me as much as poetry does anymore. Perhaps this month will be when I get that discipline back.
I'm watching the trains on the track rumble past and I get nervous when passengers make quick eye contact with me.
I'm not a fan of Finsbury Park to be honest, and I can't believe K is paying sky high prices to stay here. This afternoon, I finally decided to get out of bed and took a little walk around. Both sides of the street are flanked with shops that are Bugis Street lookalikes, selling dresses that have far too many gemstones sewn on them from top to toe. Just like how Ken and I reacted at Far East Plaza, I found myself cringing at the sight of overpriced, gaudy tops in fire engine red and electric blue alongside cheap made-in-China heels adorned with all sorts of strange accessories that my feet and ankles would probably die in.
Maybe I should have gone to the park instead. I didn't know there was so much musical history behind Finsbury Park until I Wiki-ed it. The Stone Roses were here last year in June, and Jimi Hendrix BURNED HIS GUITAR ONSTAGE in 1967?!?! Heh?!
I'm rediscovering all the music I used to listen to. Like Interpol, Bright Eyes and The Raconteurs.
I might even start liking The Beatles more now. I don't even know why I didn't like them in the first place, I can't explain it. Maybe they sound too happy - their songs may be sad, but they SOUND too happy. But I sound like a prude.
Also, I really want to catch Kings of Leon and Fink live next year. That would be the greatest 21st birthday present ever. And I'm hoping all of us will still stay great friends so we may finally go for that cabin trip in the summer in our second year.
I am so, so thankful to be at Royal Holloway. The Queen was here this year too - that event had somewhat of a sentimental impact on all of us here. Maybe it's a strong sense of what favour feels like, for the Queen to make her way down to our school to present the award is a pretty big thing. I remember telling myself that I'd probably make a sterner, less fidgety Royal Guard than those on the quad. Mmm I'm so grateful my dad's operation went well, for the friends I have here and for my family back home. I can see myself progressing in terms of thinking about the world even as I share different conversations with different people. I can see myself growing, and I love that. It's gonna be a great year. Now I can't wait for June.
