Sunday 15 November 2009

Coming Home

"Are you a City Bird or a Country Bird?" my friends mum once asked me. I looked at her a little confused. "I'm a Country Bird." She continued. "I like my fields and fences and the corner shop. I'm not made for the city." I thought about it for a while.

I'm a City Bird I decided. Yes, I was nested in the countryside. I have grown up in the Fens, I know the city only from shopping and visiting family who reside there. I don't like the countryside, there is too much there not to like: It takes hours to get to the next village, if via public transport you have to navigate a crown of the earth, if you go in the car, the road will be closed because a cow fell over on it. There is nothing to do. Well there is always something to do, if your idea of fun is playing Frisbee with cow pats, or having a pint at the pub. But thats not real fun. The jobs are badly paid, compensated only by there not being anything of any value to buy. It's not fun. Therefore I have always wanted to spread my wings and go off into the city.

University came by and now I'm in the city. It's great. Things to do, people to see. There is always something going on, always noise and flashing lights. Excitement. The rush, the energy. Everything I need is here. Why would I ever want to go home?

A month into this, nothing has changed. I love the city more then ever and I have my own little over priced corner of it. But I was going home. I felt excited. Why? I asked myself? To see the people I love.

Okay, so this is just tak. Another sentimental blog about home is where the heart is.

End.

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