As you read this blog, I must warn that you will find, honest thoughts, ambitions, and hopes from my mind.

Home Sweet Home

For normal teenagers, you can walk home from school, or bike it, or catch the bus, or maybe even drive your car. It’ll take you 20 minutes at the most.

You lucky people. A lot more effort for little old me. I had to get a taxi to the train station to catch a train to London, then tube it to Paddington, then another train to Bristol, and a final train for the last leg where I then have to walk home with my heavy case. It takes about 5 hours in total… Ugh.

I don’t actually mind travelling alone. Yes, it’s a little frightening when you get a bit lost, and sure, you have no one to talk to, but sometimes it’s nice. You can act precisely how you like, in the knowledge you will never see these people again. I took full advantage of that factor today.

I pulled my case through the station in London, singing along to my iPod with a massive smile on my face. It makes my journeys fun when I sing along to the music in the car, so I don’t see why I shouldn’t sing when walking around among strangers on my own. Who cares if I look crazy?! It makes people giggle at the tune-deaf lunatic, and I can pretend I’m a rockstar for a while.

You can’t sing while walking though. It’s actually impossible to prevent the spring in your step turning into a dance. Walking to the beat turns into occasional jumps when the bass drops or a little side step here and there. A series of head bobs and shakes, like I’m avoiding a mystery invisible bee. Tapping my hand to the rhythm. Those lyrics you thought that were being quietly sung are suddenly belted out as you strut your stuff through your own imaginary music video. Twirling your suitcase, because who needs a real-life dance partner?! Winking at strangers because you get over confident and think you are suddenly irresistible to the whole of mankind, while in actual fact you look like your having an eye spasm. I am the dancing queen! Then you sit down in your seat like a normal person, savouring that delicious secret that you have just acted like a total maniac in front of stunned strangers and now have just blended back into the crowd. You know in your heart though that you are still every bit a rockstar.

I love the pensive look out the window on a train. That stare as you watch the world go by, pondering on life’s issues. I live for that moment, where you can escape into the land of thought, and simply drift through the next hour, busy doing absolutely nothing at all. That look is always pictured in movies. It’s so famous. The forehead gently resting on the window as you gaze out into the world, some soft background music playing quietly as the actress gathers her thoughts. Such a simple moment, so perfectly simple.

And then I’m home. The familiar sight, the smiles of the family, the homely smell. I drop my bags off in my room, my darling room, to discover my dear cat sat on the end of my bed waiting for me. Little items dotted round my room as a welcome home present from Mother dearest – she bought me a lush Gilly Hicks cardigan and a poster. I sink into my bed and look around, so happy to be home, and suddenly so tired. I know that when I post this, and my head hits that cushion, I’ll be asleep before you can say Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes, it’s good to be home.

Well, my dear readers, what embarrassing things do YOU do when you’re alone? Comment below! Much love to you all. Good night.



2 comments on “Home Sweet Home

  1. penkethking
    February 16, 2013

    It’s good to have you home x there’s no place like home x

  2. sheila marsay
    February 16, 2013

    Welcome home PK enjoy your break xx

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This entry was posted on February 15, 2013 by in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , .
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