Post cards from home
A P O S T D E D I C A T E D T O
H O M E S I C K N E S S
This is a word I thought I'd never apply to myself. Ever. Home? whats a home? I've never really felt settled, ever. last year, I truly understood the meaning of HOME. home is not necessarily your cosy bed and where you put your head at night. A home is a place where you love so passionately, a place filled with people that are the honeycomb network in your happiness. A variety of places perhaps that overwhelm you with warm memories, places where you could recognise the smell a million years away, a place where "that one song" takes you back to and makes you ache when its gone.
Summer has been and gone. And oh my jelly beans, was it the most spiffy summer for a long time :)
Last year I learned that my home is not Treloweth way, any more than it is Quarry court, or even Lower Bristol Road. Home is Cornwall. Home is every beach I've ever played on, Every field I've ever ran through and every tree I've ever climbed. I spent so much time last year dashing back to Cornwall on the train just to feel that salty breeze on my face and dip my toes in that icy sea. I learned that home is not the place that you send your post to, but every place you've ever loved and feel safe.
I'm back in Bath now for another year, and its the first week and I feel homesick already.
I mustn't run back, I mustn't give up because if I go back I'll never leave ever. I wan't to be an explorer, but I don't know how I'll ever be if I always ache for that rainy humid corner of England with its stony moors.
So these are some older photo's I've taken from this summer, and from summers long ago. They're almost like post cards from home. Because Im here right now in Bath, typing from my new bedroom. I'm looking at these old photo's of home, and they're almost like i've written postcards for myself to look back at when im away.
Its all the wrong way round
"some old post cards from a life i lived nearly 3 years ago"
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