27 May 2009 11:42 PM
Lifted high, flashing past, fading away
Three years of unrecorded youth spent in school and I tried to capture it all in the span of a couple of hours on a Monday. I looked forward to it, an anticipated golden milestone of my life, and then I spent minutes standing in the midst of all those I've spent part of the years with; an hour in the theatre a session in class a queue for food or a walk through the corridor, not knowing where to begin. Undoubtedly, the day came and went and before I had had enough I was staggering home in heels that suddenly appeared ridiculously high.
And like any other day, I concluded it, snuggled up in bed with a book in my lap, cookies within arm's length, and I came across this. It made me laugh, how appropriate.
It was a strange time.
People were slipping out of the city unexpectedly, like children getting lost in a crowd, leaving nothing but temporary addresses and promises to keep in touch.
I didn't know what to do, there was a feeling of time running out and a loss of momentum, of opportunities wasted.
We spent our days on the front footstep, circling job adverts with optimistic red felt-pens, trying to make plans, talking about travelling, or moving to London, or opening a cafe, each plan sounding definite until the next morning.
A time of easy certainty had come to an end, and most of us had lost our nerve.
We used to sit on those front steps long into the evenings, long after the conversations had faltered, dragging our duvets downstairs when the star finally squeezed out, flicking the ringpulls of empty beercans, blowing tunes into empty winebottles.
Wondering what to do next.
And so yes, I want to go to London and yes maybe I'd like a cafe to my name. I'd like to pack my life into boxes and book a flight out, start something new.
Yes thank you to the various others who have taken shots of me (: and I apologise for not having tell tale pictures of the wedding event during the weekend. Saturday Sunday came and went in a flash too. It was a joyous affair, punctured with supposedly necessary hiccups. It made my mum make new guidelines for the wedding events of her children, for my brother to start dreaming of his and for me, to want to procrastinate forever.
Apart from that, three days in pretty clothes, extra make up and heels; I am now a woman.
(:
Three years of unrecorded youth spent in school and I tried to capture it all in the span of a couple of hours on a Monday. I looked forward to it, an anticipated golden milestone of my life, and then I spent minutes standing in the midst of all those I've spent part of the years with; an hour in the theatre a session in class a queue for food or a walk through the corridor, not knowing where to begin. Undoubtedly, the day came and went and before I had had enough I was staggering home in heels that suddenly appeared ridiculously high.
And like any other day, I concluded it, snuggled up in bed with a book in my lap, cookies within arm's length, and I came across this. It made me laugh, how appropriate.
It was a strange time.
People were slipping out of the city unexpectedly, like children getting lost in a crowd, leaving nothing but temporary addresses and promises to keep in touch.
I didn't know what to do, there was a feeling of time running out and a loss of momentum, of opportunities wasted.
We spent our days on the front footstep, circling job adverts with optimistic red felt-pens, trying to make plans, talking about travelling, or moving to London, or opening a cafe, each plan sounding definite until the next morning.
A time of easy certainty had come to an end, and most of us had lost our nerve.
We used to sit on those front steps long into the evenings, long after the conversations had faltered, dragging our duvets downstairs when the star finally squeezed out, flicking the ringpulls of empty beercans, blowing tunes into empty winebottles.
Wondering what to do next.
And so yes, I want to go to London and yes maybe I'd like a cafe to my name. I'd like to pack my life into boxes and book a flight out, start something new.
Yes thank you to the various others who have taken shots of me (: and I apologise for not having tell tale pictures of the wedding event during the weekend. Saturday Sunday came and went in a flash too. It was a joyous affair, punctured with supposedly necessary hiccups. It made my mum make new guidelines for the wedding events of her children, for my brother to start dreaming of his and for me, to want to procrastinate forever.
Apart from that, three days in pretty clothes, extra make up and heels; I am now a woman.
(:
.
play
