It is not that I don’t love England dearly –
more so now than when I was landlocked
more so than when I was quite near dead
but there is something in a sunset
in palm trees and tangled power lines
can you imagine leaving endless summer
for visible breath and muddied waters
dearest England is my dearest prison
enclosed, chained – it is warm and yet
my summer ended as I left LAX
to work, to adulthood – my dearest desire
will always be just to run
It is not that I don’t love England dearly –
We may all have our obsessions –
cigarettes and soaps, exes and white teeth
but I am terminally haunted by past transgressions
my skin crawling with what I did or did not say
with things I perhaps shouldn’t want
invasively, constantly – am I dying, am I old?
is my home on fire, do I love enough
could I not be so hateful, take up so much space
move from the city, to California, catch a plane
while you wait for me I will consider murder
a brutal head unfortunately filled
with viscera, blood and guts – let me know more
as I ruminate still, I obsess – if I do not say it
out loud, if I never so much as write it down
did I think it at all? Did it happen?
I team blind optimism with a desperate pessimism
this knowledge that so far, things have been –
bad is unfair, but I have been unlucky at least
but a hope that I need to maintain, that better
things are happening, that my luck has to turn
after these twenty-two years of staying afloat
so barely, so shamefully at times – although
as long as I do survive, perhaps the process
isn’t so painful as I think it is, when I open
my mouth in bars and rooms, assumed safe spaces
and kick myself for the honesty, for my belief
that if someone sees me for a second, knows half
of how I have survived this long – they will leave
but I am optimistic still that there is a soul
or two, who can give me reason to be hopeful
and maybe take away that cynicism for an evening
and that still, our luck may yet turn
I hate winter. It’s cold and it’s miserable and I get horribly depressed every time October rolls around – all the way until April or May. I have no favourite winters, only really foggy memories of being cold and sleeping endlessly and getting drunk to pass the time. But perhaps I am being unfair, and as it is winter again – my first one not going back to school – I decided to dream up some winter +s. My favourite things about winter that don’t occur in those fleeting weeks of summer we have here in Brighton.
♡ Chrismukkah ♡
In our household, we not only celebrate Christmas but nine days of Christmas/Hanukkah goodness. A la The O.C.. It’s cute. I now opt not to go back to Leicester and instead make dinner at home with my partner and our dog and it’s the best. No family to pretend to like, no gross food, no pressure to get dressed and go out.
♡ Autumn Clothes ♡
Thought I so love sun and degrees of 20+, I am a big fan of layering and reds and blues and faux far. Boots. Coats. All of it. Even if I get battered by wind walking along the seafront.
♡ Working Hard ♡
With no sun fun to enjoy, I find myself working 50+ hours through winter without complaint. I have nothing else better to do. I can get all that money together ready for another summer of days out and America trips.
♡ Brighton at Christmas ♡
In Christmas Brighton is covered in lights, empty of tourists, and the cutest I have ever known. The pier is lit long past sunset. The shops are open later. It feels like I am Christmas shopping every day.
♡ Trips With Sarah ♡
At Christmas our favourite things to do is go to London or Bristol or Bath and spend loads of money on those decorations and winter clothes that I love so dearly.
♡ Winter Costa ♡
I am a big fan of the winter costa menu and spending time drinking those warm, sugary drinks inside. Where it isn’t freezing.
There isn’t so much, but I had to try and see the positives of my least favourite time. Only six more months of chill and sadness until spring comes back around. Even if it feels like forever and ever. I will live. I will try very hard not to fall into sleeping and drinking and ignoring my friends. I had better make the most of these first few months of not being in school.
In the last perhaps lingering days of summer
I have to be cautious before I fall into
self-segregation and missed connections
some winters my friends have thought I were dead
and I might well have agreed with them, too
I have to be cautious, soak up morning’s light
not be awake to ruminate at 6am
considering cocaine with a new friend or ten
when I am not cautious I have a darkness
a distance between myself and the living
I cannot trust anyone to stop me from spinning
or booking a plane ticket at 1am