(It's not about the video, it's about the song but I had some trouble trying to post music and I really need to post this)
Oh I remember the careless days my answer to the question about me going home was "In April". Now it's "On Tuesday". Seven months, people. Who'd have known? Yesterday was my last Saturday, today is my last Sunday. I could go on for your pleasure, but you know how it goes so I'll save myself the trouble. Today is MY LAST DAY AT WORK. I'm panicking enough without completing the (brief) countdown. The feeling is more or less like the one I had before coming here. I don't really understand I'm leaving. And the mixed feelings are back, too, only stronger. I took the dockets I've saved off my wall and my room looks so weird. And I printed my travel documents. I gave up studying a couple of days ago cause I can't concentrate anymore. There's no point to read and then realise there are five other things on your mind. Like am I going to be able to squeeze all my stuff into my bags. That's a real concern, by the way. Because I. Just. Don't. Know. It might fit (not well but FIT anyway) or then I might be encountered with a mission impossible. I'm actually trying my best to avoid starting the packing because I'm so scared hahahhaha. That was like the nervous laugh pretending not to be nervous. Dear friends, please don't expect me to bring you any souvenirs. Firstly, this hasn't exactly been a holiday, and secondly and more importantly: there really is no room for any extra and I'm sorry! Yeah, but I couldn't keep studying as a priority these last couple of days. Fuck it. I'll be happy to suffer a bit more at home. Besides, I only have two chapters to go so I ought to be proud of myself. And apparently I've learned something, because one morning I was listening to some customers, and the first thing that came to my mind was "Aha! Non-standard English!" — I even surprised myself there.
In a way it will be a relief to put my bum against the aeroplane seat and fasten the seatbelt. Close my eyes and take off. To know the worst part, waiting and also worrying about practical stuff, is over. If I could I'd just skip the last day. I'd sneak out without saying goodbye to anyone. Selfish and rude, yes, but I would. It's called self-protection. I hate saying goodbye. What hurts the most is that it's just another morning and just another flight for the other people on the plane. They're coming back from a lovely little weekend break or a monthly business trip, perhaps. They don't know that I'm leaving behind seven months of life. Different life but real. That I'm travelling with so much more than they are. Metaphorically AND literally. And the thing I feared the most came true. The weather's all lovely now which makes it a lot more depressing to leave. You can see summer coming, the town is starting to wake up and come alive and I won't get to live that. I'm sad because of it. It hurts. Yes, I'm coming back in July but only for a couple of days and I haven't had enough even in a couple of months. And those were the "crappy" seasons.
This is probably the last post I'll write while I'm still in England. I'm afraid I won't have any spare time later. Today I'll get the last taste of everything, so to say: one more breakfast, one more lunch, and one more dinner. Three birds with one stone. Two down dead, in two hours it's time to kill the last one. Let's do this.
I'm sure this is what awaits me at home.
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