Hiraeth

 - 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 unequivocal: Labour <3 

Ed Milliband just makes me so happy because its so nice how passionate he is for societal equality and his left wing benevolence <3 of course ultimately his motive is power and all these party leaders are just power lustful dictators deep inside though n g l when Ed is debating the feelings elicited when he speaks probably just derive from his v humorous voice and the plethora of internet memes that subvert what constitutes satire. Also lol I think he will win purely due all the satirical videos/ tweets of him that we now associate with him thus I'm sure I'm not alone in saying his voice/ face alone suffices to elicit moderate to high levels of elation. One must admit one has rewatched his 'tough enuss' interview more times than necessary... 

WAIT WTF OMG IVE JUST HAD AN EPIPHANOUS REVOLUTIONISING REVELATION:  

Omg LEGIT what if this is mass mainstream media indoctrination to condition us to like him so he can rule the world????

WHAT IS THIS ABHORRENT CAPITALIST ABHORRENCE WTF

Omg LEGIT what if theres some peak higher power than the government and Miliband is actually some peak supernatural metaphysical deity and while trying to fabricate a human visage the facade became distorted thus resulting in this:

ALSO if this doesn't convince you how about this:

• The green party lady is DEFINITELY Sia but how would we know because she conceals her visage beneath a facade 
• Nigel Farage is just an unintelligent version of Mr Taylor the nice OCD science teacher 
• Milliband is Wallace from Wallace and Grommit ofc
• The scottish SNP leader lady is deffo from waterloo road
• The Plaid lady is deffo tom jones or someone from torchwood

PEOPLE REVOKE THE FACADE CAN YOU NOT |SEE THIS POLITICAL CONSPIRACY??????

So anyway since on tuesday my madre fragmented her hip she's been off work since then omg tuesday was legit the funniest thing ever: so I wake up, mothers paralysed, subsequently hospitalised and upon return was waaavvvvvvvved lads on morphine no joke haha (thankfully mobilité restored)

So on Friday my mother and I spent the evening packing all the stuff into memory boxes and disposing of my GCSE notes. Highlight: the mother's discovery of the v. detailed phallic representations drawn and passed during chemistry in year 10 & 11 :-) y did I keep them :-) also how did they end up with me lol????????

So we had dinner and I sat on the edge of the table (wait how is it possible to not??) and I stared out into the garden as fourteen years of memories and summers would be basically nonexistentialised (not a word but should be!!) and I ate my dinner so slow until it got so cold because I didn't want this to end as I envisaged monotonous evenings of returning after school to find dinner in the corner which I would sneak though into the third floor and consume in my bed at 4pm v surreptitiously but then be hungry by 5/6 and have to go all the way down to get the peanut butter and search for the spotless spoon to conceal forever to protect it, like a summer who distances herself from her puppies by growling at them until they fear her like a force of unilluminable darkness (also not a word but should be also) from corruption in this world of tainted abhorrence.

The mother said to me I can still walk home after school if I want and she'll come and take me to the new place in the evenings, but it'll just be awkward hanging around in the living room trying to work plus the pain of knowing directly above me there'll be someone else who has displaced me like a fragment of a memory, someone staring out of the bay windows and feeling elevated to near transitory omnipotence. BUT bcus the mother is leaving the TV allegedly for the lodgers but they won't utilise it lol (remember the one the mother bought in year 8 for my birthday after she tore her tendon in her leg so couldn't walk and I thought she wash't going to get me anything??? But then I came home and Bang 47" LED TV on the living room wall yo) I might spend my days in summer there bcus netflix :3

At 7:45ish my father arrived and as I sat in the car this wave of hireath hit me, and it was frappant (one of my fav french words - its meaning may be mundane - 'striking' - but it reminds me of starbucks and america), so just before the father pulled out the driveway I told him I thought I'd left my headphones inside (unequivocal shmite ofc) so I ran up to my room, and despite it being only a skeletal wasteland of its former self, I observed the barren remnants and sat on the wooden corner of my bed and accepted that this is the last time I will do this. Not to say one will never return, but if you tell me you're the same lord rafadoodlie 1 2 1 3 that you were two years ago today you'd be lying and in two years from now you can't say you'll be the same person with the same feelings and sentimental attachments to inanimacy that you are today

So approaching the bay windows where just twenty four hours previously I had been sitting, at least trying to revise, with the innocent obliviousness that it was my final evening of doing so, I pushed my desk out the way and pulled the curtains away, pressing my tepid forehead against the central point on the glass and absorbed the final moment of empowerment of being able to see the wind attacking the trees but having unequivocal elemental protection in my cavernous bubble, which sheltered me from all but my sole effortless tear ticking my eyelash as it glissaded down my cheek and onto my tongue. Pressing my warm forehead against the cold glass I could feel my a portion of my prefrontal cortex condense, though knowing my side-swept fringe thing would sustain the remains. I watched the wind blow the leaves so hard but I realised they always seem to resettle to how they were. Kind of like my hair except I'm pretty sure the wind must blow at leaf 10% of it off every day haha. Was hoping for a cathartic release but although I failed to achieve it then, with hindsight I guess this is just like a wind storm: although a long term disruption, my hairs will return and despite the wind damage, it'll be so seamless after a centre-meter trim it'll be like nothing ever happened.

You may think I'm a materialistic sycophant for crying over my room, but look at how pretty it was :3

soz for the mess I just lost all cohesion in the final few weeks x

then I sat on my chair and took a surreptitious selfie from under the table:

Completely candid one is legit

But the quenchon is:

am I tuffinuss?? Am I tough enough?? HELL YES I'M TOUGH ENOUGH.