So I moved to London and I went out.
That could be the end. There is so much story telling behind that sentence.
The nights we had, oh how we laughed, sang, cried, got drunk, got into trouble, fell about. It was fun with a capital big fat F.
It was Fun, it was fast, it was furious, it was fabulous, but it was also fickle.
You end up knowing so many people but you don’t really ‘know’ most of them at all.
We’d spend our nights downing vodka in my kitchen, then heading out for cheap beer before the club really got going. Then we’d smoke my Ziganov cigarettes. God we were SO cool.
It was the days before cheap fashion. There was no Primark, Topshop was around but not really in the league it is today. You’d have to make your own looks. Vivienne Westwood would be proud. It was in those days where scouts would be around looking at the kids to see what they were wearing then steal it and try to sell it back to them in a much bigger way than they do today.
Saturday day time would be spent scouring Camden market for dresses and accessories, make up would be mixed up and used however you felt, if you wanted red lipliner eyeliner so be it – or lipliner lightening blots down your face so be it – it was unusual back then.
We’d go out – we’d pout, we’d preen, we’d dance and dance and dance, people would take photo’s.
(My 3 stooges)
I ended up with many photos in Japanese Fashion Magazine’s, which suited me as my ego would be stroked but I wouldn’t actually have the pain of seeing the photos themselves. Some things never change, I still hate to see a photo of myself.
Some things haven’t changed but some things really have.
I’m in contact with the people that matter from those days. But some of us, well, we no longer hang out.
We all went to the forest and took different paths.
Some might join again who knows, we don’t, I don’t.
So for now – I walk along that path I chose or the path that was chosen for me.
I did things that I don’t understand, I didn’t want to do them. The day I had to leave the Munster flat killed me, something in me died a little. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried. My flatmate and good friend was the other side, pretty much doing the same. The train ride up there I told the person that I hated him for what he’d done……things never got better, they got a lot, lot worse. I don’t forgive and I don’t forget but I do move on, he is not worth my tears and he does not get them.
I moved back.
‘Back’! I always say you should never go back but always move forwards but my time was not done with this great city.
And here I am. ‘Back’ in that great city but what a different life.
I don’t live for the night anymore. I can’t turn up to work on 2 hours sleep still rather hammered from the night before if we’re being honest here.
Age, life….it all catches up with you. You can go into denial which is no good to anyone or you can realise it’s time to move on and do that in a dignified fashion.
It’s that figure of 8 thing again.
I’d hate to be doing the same thing now as I did then. I loved those times. They were the best times ever. But humans are meant to grow and evolve.
Now I write. I didn’t have time to do that before, I would never have done it if I was still living that life. I may never get published but I am having fun, and someone, somewhere, one day will enjoy those words I have written, I am sure.
I take photos. I blog. I make my own clothes. I read. I spend time with the people that matter in ways where I can actually hear them talk and learn things about them. My social group is now small. But the people in it are varied and life feels rich for having them in it.
I love this city but the older I get the more I dislike the people in it more and more.
I hate the rudeness of many.
I hate the competition when you go out – the death stares from insecure girls, the inappropriate hitting on you just because you are a breathing female moments, the horrible night bus journey’s home. The streets that no longer feel safe at night, or maybe I am more sober or more aware of the dangers around me. Back then I’d walk home in any old state, without a care in the world. I survived a stalker and a knife being pulled on me, but now I don’t want to even contemplate such things. Back then I was so seen to be scene, or scene to be seen.
Now I am me. Don’t try to work me out or fit me in a box, I’ll just do something to confuse you. I am nothing special, I am just me, but I’ve listened to my life, and learned a lot, I was ill for some years, there is nothing like that to make you introspective, to make you wake up, to make you look at life, to make you change, to make you know what to value.
So now, here I am in a life that has less glitter but more sparkle. I know what I mean by that sentence, I hope you do too.
I spend my time writing, reading, going for walks, spending time in the great outdoors, enjoying all that nature has to offer, I have weekends away, I hang out with friends, I watch films and stupid cartoons, I drink, I get drunk, sometimes I fall over, even without the help of the drink. The only thing that’s changed is that I gave up that ‘scene’……..it wasn’t a healthy scene but it was fun. It is a book and a half to tell and maybe one day I will.
For now, I am happy being the quieter version of me. (Yeah my friends will laugh at that one but I promise you, you think I talk a lot now, you should’ve met me then!). I am happy being friends with someone because they have a good heart and are a kind person and something makes us connect, they don’t have to have a certain angle of cheekbone to be my friend. I don’t care if your clothes are Marni or Primark. If you have a good heart that is more likely to win me over.
I feel another chapter of my life is upon me and I am waiting patiently to greet it with open arms.
So what am I trying to say?
That life changes, some things you are happy to have change and some things hurt but you come through the other side. You survive. None of us know what is in store, but roll with the punches, and learn from the mistakes. Pick yourself up, dust yourself down and try again, or try another way. Life is to be lived and it is to be explored. Some people are in your life for a long time, some for a few fleeting moments, not everyone that comes into your life is meant to stay, sometimes those that fly and those that stay can be quite a shock, but all the same, not everyone is meant to stay - it's not a bad thing, and doesn't have to end badly, just be open to what life has to offer. Be kind and hope that people will be kind back, if they aren’t move on, there are plenty of other people out there – you don’t need to stick to the bad ones. When things feel impossible know they are not, you are missing something , not learning the right lesson, be open to the world and make your little patch of earth as nice and as happy as can be. If we all did that simple little thing – what a wonderful world this would be.