Tag Archives: home

[we seemed to have gone past the start of the end]

My time in Bangor is been coming to an end.
It’s been fun.
I’ll be home before I know it.
That sentence contains mixed emotions.

[reminds me of home]

Not sure where I found this or exactly how long it’s been saved on my computer.

But seeing it reminds me of home.

The fact that besides Bangor at the moment home is Kent and by weak extension London and that this drawing is obviously not of London makes the fact it reminds me quite strange. But there you go.

Hope you’re all good.

[my third home]

Ok, so as regular readers [or even those who
may peruse this site only on occasion] may
know, I currently live in Bangor. A town in
which I quickly started to call home. But I
do have another place that has the feeling
of home that is also in Bangor.

It’s the darkroom. It is amazing.
I love it there. I really do.

But alas the building is being torn down over
the summer so that’s it really. I found a great
place and now I’ve got to give the keys back.

It was great though, everything that I had  learned
at college just came straight back and
I achieved a
level of focus that I hadn’t had for a while that I am
trying to continue in other areas in my life.


[funwithpolaroidsofpeoplewhoareawesome]

About two or three months ago whilst perusing the
overlooked boxes of the local charity I came across
a great little camera. A Polaroid Supercolour 635.
Basically a polaroid camera that takes the standard
600 film. Just in case you were unaware I had broken
my other Polaroid camera. [we dont talk about it]

So obviously I bought it. For about £3. Love it.

But I had to wait till I visited home earlier this
month because I hadn’t packed the film with me
and it is increasingly hard to get these days. So
whilst I was back I put some into my bag [to be
honest I should blog on my time back, oh well].

So, I had ten photographs left. I had the first one taken
whilst Andrew and I were in the Storm FM studio.
The second I took on Bangor Pier. And the third….

When you only have ten photos left in a camera
and with no idea where your next lot is coming
from or indeed if that next lot will ever come
about. You make sure the photos are worthwhile.

Title:
[fun with polaroids of people who are amazing]
Alt Titles:
[you’re so cool I’d waste a polaroid on you]
[you’re so cool, I’d actually waste a polaroid just have you in it]

[every road sign’s a reminder of exactly why we do this to begin with]

I am in a very strange place right now. Even
though that strange place is home.

Now that I live in Bangor that word has become less than
exclusive. I am able to call both Wales and England home,
and it feels very strange. I’m kind of finding it hard to
describe.

When I’m in one place it feels like I’m missing
out on opportunities in the other place. I call
both places home but also feel slightly estranged
from both. Which also makes me think as to
what I’m going to do when this Bangor based
adventure ends.

Do I stay in Bangor? If I do, I would have to find
somewhere else to live which I suppose wouldn’t
be amazingly difficult but at the same time. I would
have ‘done’ Bangor if that makes sense. I would of have
had the experience of it, which is probably a better
way to say it.

Do I return to my hometown? And if I do this,
I would probably have to think about actually finding
a career for the rest of my life and sort that out. But
to me that seems incredibly boring. Incredibly.

Or just disappear again. To pop back to hometown
after I have to move out of Bangor and within a couple
of months slip away again to another place/country.

The thing about this is that I have the worse
habit of not actually telling people that I’m
going away. And for some reason I can that
as being one of my character flaws. But on
the other side of that. I NEED to see the world.

I can’t just say to myself at twenty-two years old that
where I am is where I am going to be forever.

I just can’t.

I’m pretty sure I know which one of the three it’s going to
be. And I’m pretty sure you do too.

It’s not often that a primarily good person has to
make the choice between being selfish or not.
And picks the road that leads to selfishness.

But the truth is I haven’t really got anything tying me
down to anywhere. Oh the joys of beings me. It’s ok
to be envious just so’s you know.

[14th December 2007]

Now, before I simply copy and paste this
entry from my old livejournal I feel that
I should explain it somewhat. This journal
entry depicts in a sort of first person veiw
one of the best days of my life.

I intent to erase my old livejournal, now
that I have this blog instead, but I also
feel that there are a few blogs worth
saving and they will pop up randomly
in this one before I take the final plunge
and delete the last one.

– [it all starts on the 12th December 2007]

[this for all intensive purposes is you]

So picture the scene, it’s
about 5:20 on a normal
Wednesday, you’ve got ten
min left of work and your bored.

You’ve already had to deal
with customers whose orders
haven’t arrived, helped people
and displayed an almost autistic
knowledge in photography.

And on top of that you’ve been
told that sleeping in the same bed
with someone who you work with, and
nothing happening is impossible,
and that you probably got raped
in your sleep, nice.

But as you stand in the hallway, out
the back of the shop, feeling the seconds
slowly drip away, but still getting nowhere
nearer to home time
you feel your pocket
going off, its your phone,
its a message, but not the one
you were hoping for, but its
still a nice surprise, you read:

Ricktron50002
Wana come drink some beers
round mine? x

a smile appears
you say yes [quite obviously]
and your assistant manager
asks what it is that suddenly perked
you up, and successfully guesses
its strongbow realted, you chuckle as
you grab your coat to leave, its
no longer home time, its drinking
time, its the promise of good times
[except you do have to pop home first
to grab some stuff].

You get to the train station
a little later than planned to
find out that your train is delayed, by
quite a bit, there’s nothing
you can do either, so you decide to
get a cab to Dartford and get
a train from there.

Whilst waiting for the taxi,
a train goes past, the train you
had been waiting for, you start to
run get halfway and realise you
won’t make it, you have a short
conversation with a man
on the platform with you and
proceed to go and wait for the
taxi again.

In this time you
talk to a girl who seems to be
milling around, you say uyo’d
split the cab if she
was going to Dartford, she isn’t,
shes going to Bluewater, but you
get thanked and talk for a bit anyways,
talk about this and that, and she says
that she’ll come visit you in your shop,
you don’t expect this to ever happen.

You get to Dartford station and
give up £7.50 to the cabbie
with the itchy back and
proceed to get on a train.

You get to New Cross and find out
all the delays were because of a
fire at Cannon street station, it’s
nine o’clock, your really late, on
the way to ricks house you
buy some alcohol and cigarettes
you give up 5p of your change,
your in a rush.

You get to the house, the hall light
is red, you giggle, this place looks
like a brothel, you think to yourself,
you get in, bearing the gifts, not
only the fags and booze, but a delayed
birthday present for rick and the photos
from France, of which you and him
visited earlier in the year.

You proceed to drink, discussing many
things, also putting up the Christmas
lights in the kitchen,
that were supplied by ricks
flatmate Kate, it is awesome, the lights
look amazing.

You again proceed to drink and
wake up on the house sofa, remembering
parts of the night before, long talks
about how you should accept gifts and
what not, talks on ricks movie idea
which is amazing, your life and its
comparisions to your drinking buddies
life, discussions on the universe whilst
laying on your back in the garden on bin
liners as to not get your clothes dirty
you also see that you have
been a silly boy, sending drunken text
messages again, was and is always a bad idea,
oh well, doesn’t matter much, cause you
have to get to work, you brush
your teeth and leave a note for rick
and head for New Cross station.

You get to the station a few minutes later
and get a ticket from the automated
machine ‘NEW CROSS TO GREENHITHE’ it states,
showing you, that you can go no further,
you don’t mind, you need to go to work and thats
it, you wait, it is now 09:01 according to
the printed date on the ticket, you
check and your in luck, there is a train
to dartford, its due for 09:11, you get
to platform C and find its delayed by about 10
minutes, which is ok, it leaves you more than
enough time to get a bus and to work,
your so tired and cold and you receive messages,
replies from the night before, you reply, and
wait for the train.

It comes, it doesn’t stop, it just goes on,
this is the first time its happened to you,
you have to think, think…
you’ve got it, you jump on the next train to
Lewisham and then the next train from there
to Darford, as you leave Dartford station, you
hand the guy your ticket and start to walk,
your already late and you get stopped,
theres something wrong with your ticket mate,
you hear behind you.

you turn around, saying pardon in the
process, well according to this, he says,
your going to new cross, and its yesterday,
in your haste you gave him the ticket
from yesterday, you quickly grab
the ticket you got this morning, and
hand it to him, saying sorry at the
same time, he says that he doesnt have
to keep it since its valid for a few more stops

you say you don’t really care
and you cant wait for that train
and you leave, and get the Fasttrak B to
Bluewater, you call your boss to let him
know you’ll be late, and you start your
journey to work, getting in a little
bit of sleep and thinking that although
all you did last night was have a few
beeeers round a mates house, it was
awesome, oyu had a great time, and sleep
is fun, work flies by, you see your best friend
and some people you havn’t seen in years,
you work a little bit extra because you were
a little bit late, which allows you to chat a bit
more.

After work, you start to head home, your tired
and have a great idea for a blog, it may be long
winded but it’d be fun to write and thats he point,
you grab a helium balloon and head to Bluewaters
christmas fare, you see you say hi to mark
and kelly sends us away because we are being
too rude, in this time, you manage to maintain a
convo whilst using a urinal and [albeit not at the same
time] manage to accidentally insult a burgerking girl,
neither you or mark know how this happened, you apologise,
grab your coke and leave, you and mark proclaim to be gay
just to get some sales people
to leave you alone, and then you
return him to the christmas fayre and after a while continue
the journey home.

You get home, say hi to your mum
and get on the computer, it was
on standby when you got in, and
you rest your laptop on your lap,
and begin to write your new blog
recounting the previous two days
in a strange sort of way, but you
are happy writing it.

You talk to alex online for a bit
and realise that you don’t know where
your laptop charger is, its been
moved since Tuesday when you
last used it, and its flashing 10% battery
left.

So you put the laptop to sleep and
look, you realise that this blog will
take ages, and you tell alex this,
you find the charger, it had been moved,
you not too happy, but its nothing to get
stressed about, you have you dinner and
have a bath, you then continue to write
as you finish up, you
realise your quite proud with it and the
clock on your laptop says 00:36.

Its time to post and sleep
you log onto livejournal and go to
post to journal, realising you have a
message, which you’ll read in a moment,
you open the notepad document where you
pre-wrote the blog, a habit you
seem to now always do, to write the blog
in notepad first and then place it in
livejournal, just in case.

You select all the text by pressing
CTRL or as you say ‘central’ and the A
key, you then copy it and you are about
to paste it into livejournal, adding a
little bit on the end which would have
been impossible to write, and you add a series
of tags to it, add some details and realise
it is ready for posting.

POST

awesome, yeah?

awesome, yeah?

[word count : 1542 words]