Monday 25 October 2010

Norfolk and Sons...

Since Autumn in Southampton feels more like mid-winter in Norfolk (damn coastal icy nights), I've been listening to my wintery music collection. As of last year, I added Mumford and Sons to this list. Now, many of my friends have discovered and learned to love Mumford for one reason or another, but everything about this band reminds me of home. My sister was pals with lead singer Marcus at university, and I remember her telling me about him back when I was 16. And she bought the album for our mother's Christmas/birthday present, and my brother loved it, and wouldn't go on a car journey without it. Our Christmas day walk on Walberswick Beach was sound-tracked by Mumford. And the video to The Cave looks weirdly similar to the drive up to Walberswick. And there's something country, dark and kind of deeply disturbing about the album that belongs to the country-side of my brain. The city-side likes Motion City Soundtrack blaring out at 7.15 as I waited for the morning bus, wishing to be anywhere but Norfolk during my puberty. City-side now says listen to Breaking Benjamin and Fightstar first thing (11am) to wake up the cute Asian baby next door. City-side says don't walk on your own at night, but country-side says lonely walks are best took at night. Parks are dangerous in cities, but parks are the safest part of the country.

I've been thinking about London a lot recently. I want to be there, but I don't want 'there' to be London. I don't want to live somewhere where I have to catch a train just to get to school. I don't want to live in a bedroom not big enough for all my stuff. I like my stuff. I've always been crap at getting rid of things, whether its clothes, doodles or boyfriends. Recently I've been giving my whole life a spring clean, and I don't know when to stop... Hopefully I've now stopped. Hopefully I have found my little snigger of happiness in what used to be a pretty simple week. And I want to keep that happiness. I'm terrified that I will, as per usual, fuck everything up. But that's not who I am. This is a new me, who makes good choices and doesn't get drunk or pass out or wake up next to people I don't remember falling asleep with.

This is new. This is now. This is... well, get ready to be fucking surprised.