There’s something almost comforting about the night sky from this spot. Concealed between the tall and dark estate buildings, this concrete jungle, eternal darkness fills this little space. Millions of fluorescent stars are placed in the distance, the occasional plane filled with eager travellers seeking wondrous adventure, all harbouring the dreams of the people who overlook this place.

Dimly lit by the solemn and lone lamp; cellophane euphoria and discarded boxes scattered and left behind from a day’s graft of visits, glow in the false sun’s beam. Once bright blue new arches are now rusted; vines effortlessly entwined around each bar, climbing to freedom, towards the sky where all the dreamers live. Benches seated in a circle, discarded drink cans and cigarette butts strewn across them.

Three summers ago, from this spot, the roar of animals storming the streets could be heard; the screeching, the squawking. The distress. What for? A fight? A protest? A cause? Serpents of smoke hissed and filled the sky, whilst the distant flames licked up the sides of buildings; breaking apart this once concrete jungle.

As the rain fell the following days, the musty scent of soot and despair lingered in the empty streets. The once vibrant city was now a dull red, black and grey; the water ran black in the debris filled gutters; the city was void of life. ‘Like the painted face of a savage’ they said to describe the caged animals now. Oh how they are wrong, misunderstood is all. The trouble is though, they can’t see through this melancholy madness.

It leaves a humbling yet daunting thought. Humbling that the inhabitants of the den destroyed their own home, but daunting that it could happen.

To an outsider this place, this sanctuary, is disgusting. A travesty to the eyes of the Lords and Ladies, who would daren’t to bat an eye lid at this spot, give no care. But to us this is spot; this is escape. To us, this is home.

I wrote this awhile ago for my AS English Language coursework. My teacher didn’t like it much but fuck it. Can’t always please everyone can you.

NaBloWriMo: Post 9 – What I spend my time doing

I thought I would post this before getting to work as I have time. I mean in retrospect I spend half my life travelling on public transport (whether it 40 minutes journeys into work, or those hourly one on the way home). I get to do a lot of thinking and I have decided to tell you what I do with my spare time (because you all care soo much *sarcasm*). But here goes.

If I’m not travelling I’m either reading or writing. Boring I know but it’s what I can do. I say that because after leaving secondary school (or the first 5 years of high school if you’re American I believe) I kind of lost my art mono – I have endless amounts of art work lying around my room bearing as constant reminders to this fact. I mean I do always think about getting back into stencilling but I need new equipment, and right now I don’t have the money for that (but I will soon !).

But to make my hobbies sound less vague I will be more specific. I read numerous amounts of fanfiction, as you could tell from a previous post I wrote about my slight obsession. I also try to read normal books but I get halfway and then just put them down – I need to stop doing that because it’s just making the pile beside my bed ever growing.

And writing wise I also posted about how I handle not falling into depression, which is by writing my thoughts in the form of prose and poetry. I almost feel as if I were in a Shakespeare play, they would be my asides to the audience – somewhat a soliloquy but less eloquently said of course.

Alongside those two things I do enjoy recording and watching documentaries (either animal related, historical ones, or ones on literature – nine times out of ten they are the combination of the first two, learning about all the prehistoric creatures from the jurassic, miocene and pliocene periods of time. Ahh Megalodons). At the moment I have 6 episodes of this documentary series on actors discussing Shakespearean plays and how the written quality of the play and the acting merge together on stage to recreate the greatness of them.

And blogging, as you have probably realised because of these endless NaBloWriMo posts ^.^.

It’s almost my stop to get off so I will leave it here. Post later.