Snowprints in the Sand

It's just a good word that you'll find when utilising Microsoft word  So today I spent lunch in the library doing a psychology paper and I texted my mother to say I'd be going home, and if she would drop me off at the new house before she went to work. During my venture back home, I audaciously visited to the shop however trepidatiously overpaid for some aloe vera juice [too scared to say anything in case of incarceration :((]. The horrifying thing is though, I thought in spite of this life change everything around me, from the mundane to the most exciting place in my life (school), would appear so shockingly the same. But somehow the walk just felt so abhorrently different. I felt sia was singing slightly slower; I felt I was walking just slightly faster, or perhaps it was just the sense of diminished distance deriving from knowing I wasn't returning home, but instead embarking on the revocation of the yearning of hireath - however ephemeral. (woah what is going ...

 - the bittersweet homesickness interspersing poignancy, nostalgia and insatiability; the longing to return to a home that one can no longer existentially visit, a place perhaps that has been transcended by matter, time, or feeling... Okay probably not that far but Im pretty sure this epitomises my feelings rn. So I'm at my grandparents in London which is nice bcus haven't been here for a month, but when I return on Sunday I'll be at the new house. :( Thursday/Friday night was my final evening at home, or at least what was once a home but is now tainted with abhorrence thus would be more accurate to allude to it as the place I've inhabited for the past 14 years since we moved to England when I was 4.  When I returned home from school on friday, unsure if this would be my final walk home, I crawled into bed and ate some porridge and caught up on the challenger's debate. One may not know much about the unfathomable complexities of politics, but my support is...

So yesterday was definitely the most exciting day in terms of reality but also was quite good in terms of reverie (v benevolent word: to be pleasantly lost in one's thoughts) bcus dreams were interesting: can only remember fragments such as being in the empty concourse and feeling happy bcus first to the salad bar but then suddenly a stampede of ppl trampled me over :((:( thus subsequently I returned about 40 mins later to find the salad bar had metamorphosed into a malevolent pit of coleslaw!!!!!! But thankfully they were selling Kiwis and Strawberries but I only had enough money for one :(( thankfully Jack was there <3 and he said I should buy the strawberries so I did even though I wanted the kiwis :( but then the strawberries became so expensive when I got there thus I went back and got the kiwis!!!!!!!! but was sad bcus would Jack ever forgive me for defying him? :((:( Later, as I was going to french I had to walk through mr k's spinach class but ofc in my drea...

Okay so I've decided to do an old narrative-style blog like I used but ofc one will interconnect this with the metaphysicality of my thoughts. I've found the most beautiful word:  Catharsis This is a literary technique but my appreciation for it was during psychology when I learnt what it really means: - emotional purification deriving from the release of deeply repressed emotions, resulting in feelings of purgation and a sense of relief, ultimately becoming unburdened of one's internal conflicts. So what isn't catharsis is what happened yesterday: One awoke just before midday to find we had lots of potential lodgers all coming to see my room simultaneously bcus time mixups and I had NOWHERE TO HIDE!!! so I just sat in the kitchen whilst Christine (lodger with the pug) was ironing. Subsequently, all the ppl came in like 'oh hai this your son?? u excited for moving out??:-)' (mother must have told them I'm moving to dads) and I was just like ...

So idK y but in a transitory moment of serendipity I glanced out the window and became entranced by the moon and said to dear Georgerai: 'WOAH LOOK OUTSIDE', triggering a v intensive emotional conversation about the unfathomable nature of the moon and how underappreciated it is. Thus, here's my poem to thank the moon for its beauty: Luminescence Freckled convexities; Decadent concavity.   Unfathomable dexterities -  By day - an actor in the audience;  an immortalised flea entrapped within a freeze-frame    But by night: a thespian illumination  radiating through the irrepressible darkness  Derivation repressed - source suppressed -  to allow the sun to redress Land like untouched snow;  an untainted heart; an untouched soul  a spider, unscathed, sliding through the cynical spokes of the shower drain  plucking at the pipes; harmonising the most monotonous of heart-tendons amidst ...

SINCEREST APOLOGIES my beautiful benevolent readers, alas it is currently the abhorrent segmentation between terms: Easter. Thus I've literally done NOTHING for the past week (bar sleep and netflix and stuff all my fallen pages into my folder, thus exacerbating my disorganisation). Thankfully, Ive had this (about half finished) stored in my drafts for so many months; I think, after all this time, you guys deserve this <3 FIRST FUQUEN WORD WONG - 'Though' should be 'Although' \I/ SECOND FUEQUEN WORD WRONG - 'there's' is the contracted form of there is, thus it should be 'there have' \I/ I was infatuated with the ABSURD colloquial 'hench' in year nine haha. y? probs bcus I was delusional enough to believe it could become a constitutive trait de moi :-)   Omg I remember this unequivocally - it didn't say 'Raf'; it said 'Rap' - the most abhorrent genre of what I call 'music', not that ...