A Little Older, A Little Wiser

...But I still haven't mastered the art of going to bed before midnight. Once a night bird, always a night bird. I'd say owl, but there are far too many ex-related connotations. It feels somewhat odd blogging again. I thought about reading over posts from my last blog, in case it reminded me how I wrote and what I wrote about. I specifically remember that I used to finish each post with a beautiful and related song lyric. Maybe I'll end up doing that again this time; I don't know yet. But yes, it's the early hours of the 16th October. A significant date. A date that whisks me back in time to the common room in sixth form, two years ago today. Selling cakes for charity, wondering if Miss Shirley would glance over and give me my daily fix of smiles. It seems like yesterday, but a lifetime ago at the same time. It's her birthday today. Twenty. It sounds so old; I'm merely 18. A young 18. I remember how much the age gap used to disconcert her. I've been here for a month now, here being university. But I still feel far too young. It's strange, sometimes I feel much too inexperienced, much too naive. But other times, I feel as if I am, in a way, ahead. I don't like saying that. But sometimes that's just how I feel; I may be wrong, I may be delusional. I don't know. Another thing I don't know is how I'm feeling. Mentally. I think I'm quite low at the moment, but I appear to be controlling it quite well. Perhaps this change of scenery is a good thing. It's definitely benefited my writing. I can write freely in my lectures, and sometimes I can write back at halls too. I was writing about Annabelle and Charlie when I first got here. Then I met somebody intriguing, and began a short story entitled 'The Night Bus'. Michaela's read it. She says it's incredibly personal, and that she can't write such personal memoirs. These days it seems to be all I can write. So I've started up a blog again. And I'll see where it takes me. I'm excited. Exciting times.