I'm notorious for my hatred of change, well known within my family and friends for it. I know it's a bad thing and I know I shouldn't get attached to the people and things and places in my life. But we all know I do. Everyone who knows me well knows I will. The thing that scares me is not the extreme amount of change to come. It's the excitement. I'm excited, me the hater of change, is excited for the change! It's for the people that I'll meet, the friends that I'll make, the lovers I'll encounter.
It's because of the present, it's because of what's going on. I've made friends because of change and I love them more than I ever thought possible. I've known these people for twenty- seven weeks and I never want to not know then again. If I can do that with these people then surely I can do it with more?
Things I shouldn't think within my head, let alone say out loud.. 'And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.' ~Sylvia Plath
Saturday, 9 April 2011
Friday, 12 November 2010
New.
New experiences are what seem so daunting to most people in life. New people, new friends, new places.. I'm experiencing similar. New people, new friends, new places. A city not a town. But I love every moment of this. I love the new people, the new friends and the new city. I've always been a city girl at heart though, hence the desire to move to somewhere daunting, somewhere new and somewhere big. The want for fun also burns through. Night's out with people I hardly know, winter walks with girls I've only just met yet feel like I've known forever and relaxing with people who are bound to become some of my closest friends in life- who I already care about so much. The sights, the laughs, the arguments, the banter (horribly overused word which i LOVE) and the tears. New people, new friends, new places. A city not a town. Night's out. Winter walks. Relaxing.
The hardest part is the people I left behind.
The hardest part is the people I left behind.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
The Hardest part is this isn't me. This isn't something I should know how to handle- this isn't something I can handle. Not something I remember or crave. Not something I particularly want to remember or crave. I guess so far I was lucky. Lucky in love, lucky out of love, lucky that I knew when to draw the line. Not something I can stop?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)