|Reflections in the Tate|
|Some deities I found, I think they may be Krishna and Radha but I could be totally wrong.|
|Two of my best friends and I being shameless tourists.|
I spent three deliriously tired days in Liverpool last week. The first thing I thought when I arrived in the city was how similar it is to Dublin, they share the same kind of grey, lonely grittiness which made it comfortingly familiar in a way. When I got to my cheap hotel room I tried to be pure and meditative but only ended up daydreaming, hotels are all the same; austere white walls and sheets, an impersonal framed print or two above the bed and too much dark-stained fake wood. Or at least all the hotel rooms I've ever stayed in; I might as well be have gone anywhere at all, I didn't pay too much attention anyway, I hadn't slept for thirty seven hours and at that point all I could do was collapse.
When I got home though; nothing had changed, my naive and incorrect assumptions promised me I'd return to the security of when everything would always be ok, obviously I was disappointed. I refuse to let the overwhelming blackness take hold and tie me up again, these next few months will be difficult, I know, but after this summer I'll be free to go and do whatever I want, I could wake up and go to New York if I wanted to! I registered to vote today, which makes me feel at least slightly less restrained.
It's almost time for me to decide what I want do with my one, great life in this whole wide world, my college applications have to be completed in a few months (I know that's load's of time but I am painfully indecisive.) At the moment I am torn between doing Creative Writing with English and Philosophy or just English Literature OR Fine Art, someone tell me what to do please? Obviously I want to pursue my music or write poetry or live in a Parisian attic and paint, but I think I want a degree before that, even just for a reason to get out of bed in the morning if anything.