My dog died the night before Valentine’s day.
Two Years of Rome (Parts One and Two)
I'm pining. Much like a certain not-dead parrot that famously pined for the Fjords, I too am now pining for the soft orange facades and knobbly cobbly streets of La Citta Bella. It's not surprising, you always want what you've had and lost, like an old watch, old school friends or not being an adult. So I've figured that the best way of dealing with this pining is to write down my progression through the couple of years spent in the eternal city, in order to enter a state of sweet nostalgia and suckle at the teat of sentimentality.
A Rambling Observation on the Nature of London
London London London. A hulking grey seething mass of out of time buildings, winding streets and tightly clipped accents. Of fast paced walking and faster conversations muttered into a telephone. For the average young British person London lives in the psyche, it is forever there just in the back of your mind, beckoning you, letting you know that no matter how hard you try, chances are you will end up living there at one point or another, slaving away under it’s great whip comprised of high-speed broadband cables and intern’s tears.