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“I think of how I treat my stuffed animals and boyfriends and dogs with the same learned tenderness, how I still have a strong urge to rub his back until he falls asleep because it’s pleasing and reassuring and asks for nothing, and that seems like the kindest thing you can give a sleepy person.”—From “Moving Home” by Meggie Green
this is quite exciting for me actually
My parents want to move house. I mean there is nothing wrong with my house - I actually really adore my house purely because my bedroom is so perfect for me - but I’m still really excited all the same. There’s something really ‘butterflies-in-your-stomach’ feeling about moving into a new home. A new start.
Today we went to a view a beautiful house that was across the water from where we live now. It was lovely but something about it just felt strange, like, I just know that we couldn’t live there. The decor was too old fashioned which wasn’t ideal either but still, there was that eerie feeling. It’s hard to describe into words but it was there.
Just now they’re browsing houses online and I think i found my dream home. Seriously. It’s an apartment that has 365 degree views of the city, the whole room is glass! It’s so beautifully stunning. Every bedroom has an ensuite and it’s just ugh…perfect! If only..
They have no rush though to find a home to move into or anything so it’s just a very slow process. Still, I’m getting excited because maybe we’ll find a beautiful new house with a bedroom that’ll make me super happy. The only reason I care so much is because I’ve decided that I’m not moving out of home again until my 3rd/4th year of university. It’s just too expensive in the real world, haha!
So I moved back to my parents yesterday and to say I had a good nights sleep is an understatement.
I finally moved all my remaining possessions that hadn’t been deemed suitable for landfill or the charity shop and at 6pm handed my keys to the estate agent.
By the time 7:30pm rolled around I excused myself from the living room and went to my bedroom to watch the Manchester United game. I didn’t even turn on the TV. I was asleep by 8pm.
To say it was the greatest night sleep is an understatement - I slept all the way through to 7am and I think I could have kept going (thank you, pesky thing called, work)
I feel so refreshed today. I think I really needed to relax after all the stress of discarding 99% of my belongings and getting ready for the big move.
A belated happy halloween.
Been a bit busy moving home, settling in and getting back to a decent routine of creating everyday, plus some ongoing jobs keeping me occupied mean this blog’s been less updated than I’m sure we’d all like.
I have nothing particularly ‘finished’ to post, but I did a few halloween themed warm up drawings yesterday using some life drawing sketches, which I’ll put up in a photo set below this post. There will be more ‘finished’ pieces on the way soon though.
If you fancy owning any of the warm up pieces get in touch.
Here’s a moving card:
Life is a bitch, but she's totally doable (I know at least one person caught the reference...)
I’m really trying to see the upsides in being forced to move home.
This is what I’ve found:
Set adrift in mere days, 'i promise i wont hate you'
So as i find myself three years in to my northern settlement, it appears to have come to an end. As of the next two months.
Ive always said ive enjoyed being here and found the people really intresting, made some good friends had some times and so on.
‘SO SEAN STRETCH WHERE DOES IT LEAVE ME OVER THE NEXT THREE WEEKS?’
My house mates went behind my back after no clear directive to a reality, to suddenly wanting to up wind and leave just before christmas, this leaves me just a mere three weeks to pack my shit and fucking leave!
Where will i go?..To my mums no doubt at 26 you can hardly say that will be fun though.
The timing?!..Well it has been said i have got a grandparent that’s nearly on their death bed, and stress and insomnia because i cant stand my girlfriend living away at university. I have a brother that is a top kid but without a real adult to give a portrayal on life to, and an mother that’s engaged, In the mist of this its not been the best year as i owed alot of money from employers.
Now when you live with three people, it’s difficult to not mention stress related items why a person may be on edge, the move, is the only sign of support or words ive appeared to of been offered. Not that i enjoy comforting its just ethic.
Really thought i had got over my depressing and painful 09/10 experience.
‘HOW I FEEL?’ when i got screwed over at Hero Burrito for over $800 i thought it couldn’t get worse, things would get better and it was a one off four times now im owed money from jobs, start a year badly end a year badly.
To think i had finally just started saving, so i could actually go on holiday for new years..annoying.
Well i have a job inter view already lined up in Faversham next week, a good old friend has set me up and im hoping to smash it!
GOOD LUCK ME ANDFUCK YOU LEYLAND CUNTS
KENT WELCOME ME WITH OPEN ARMS X
My room is a mess.
Since I’m moving back home and my brother moved to Seattle a year ago, I’m getting his bedroom. My bedroom was big enough to fit a bed and a wardrobe, so the move made sense considering I am the owner of many things.
The swap has been completed. My brother’s things are where my room used to be, my daybed has taken the place of our air hockey table and now lives in front of a large window on the upstairs landing. My things are in what used to be my brother’s room and I guess is mine now.
It’s been his for ten years. Calling it mine is an adjustment.
All of my things are in boxes or piles scattered around the room. My mother pretty much banned me from doing anything with regards to the swap (I don’t know why), so it’s all been shoved in here for me to sort out at my leisure.
That’s not including the boxes of things I took to university with me which are sitting in the garage.
I don’t understand how I have this much stuff. When I tell you my old room was the size of some walk in closets, I am not exaggerating. My only guess is that I am talented. I can clearly play bedroom tetris incredibly well.
I don’t think this room will ever feel like mine. The furniture, barring the bed, which is my parents’ old one, is all my brother’s. He’s had most of it since he was a kid. The layout has been the same for ten years. My own things don’t feel like mine. It’s my life, catalogued in useless little bits and bobs, but it doesn’t feel like me. This feels like who I used to be, not who I am now.
I don’t like coming home. I didn’t like living here when I was a teenager. I don’t like this room. It holds some memories I’d love to forget. It doesn’t feel like a space I can settle into. This feels like a space waiting to be escaped. I feel caged.
I’m trying to make the best of being back, but this house is too much. The weight of seeing what I’ve kept from the past ten years scattered around this bedroom is too much. I don’t want or need any of it. I want to get out of here and I want to start again.