Monday, December 12, 2005

House (or rather flat) or a home

5 years ago I knew I wanted things in life. I was sharing a flat with 3 other people (+ their friends, boy friends, girl friends, random strangers and mad Italian ex-girlfriends) and the place was so claustrophobic. I didn't have any space to think, the place was a dump and the walls were made of card board. At that moment I wanted my own place more than anything. Somewhere just for me, where I didn't need to interact with other people, clean up after them or be forced to sit through Bridget Jones for the 10th time.

Fast forward to today and I have a lovely flat, where I can do what ever the hell I want. If I had been offered this then, I would have jumped at it.

But now I want something else! People, the conversation, the surreal (generally alcohol induced) moments. The embarrassed looks from other flat mates when you walk out of the wrong bed room in the morning. Those simple interactions which you so take for granted, and which you only notice when they are gone.

Typical of human nature really, you get something you want and then you want something else. Why can't we just be happy with what we have....

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

thought silence was supposed to be golden... then again nothing like throwing beer around on a summer's night when the words are coming out backwards or upside down and you that nothing you're going to say (for once) really matters... the lost innocence of noise