Warning: This is gonna get emotional and philosophical. If you don’t approve, that’s cool.
So I’ve moved back to Huddersfield for university, and I’ve moved into a new house. It’s three floors, with a cellar. I’m on the top floor, tucked away in a small room (not that I’m complaining), it’s just strange. To be so detached from everyone, I can lock my door and just be sort of utterly alien from outside, from friends, from Preston. Family, home and such.
It’s not that I don’t like the chance for it to be like that, but it’s like my rooms a pause button, I can stroll into.
Shove on some loose clothes and lock my door, it’s pretty addictive. Because times have been stressful, and it’s simpler to just ignore things. I’ve handed out some CVs, but haven’t got any phone calls back or anything, and it’s not that I don’t understand how difficult it is to find any work, let alone part time work as a student.
And I realise my life could be harder, things that are tiny in truth, seem huge. And I should be thankful for even getting the chance to go to University, and got into my second year.