Aha, I've finally summoned up the necessary dose of shame to summarily eradicate the previous string of posts on my blog, and go back to writing my regular rubbish. Well, not regular in any sense of the word I suppose.
Its always so strange to look back on what you've written, and think about how it was in that crystal moment when you were possessed to write bilge, and compare it to the bilge you currently pen. It makes you giggle. Or cringe. But whichever response it invokes, its always interesting, and to a certain degree enlightening.
The recent tour was really amazing. I always feel blessed to be able to be part of such a wonderful group of people. In a really curious way, the sheer wholesomeness of the entire experience really sparked this ridiculous longing for home within me. I've often spoken about how the longer I'm away from home, the less compulsion I have to return to it? Whatever connection I may have felt to London is now wiped, helped along no doubt by my speedy change of accommodation, or lack thereof.
The horror of it all is; the constant longing for home makes my mind skip away every few minutes or so, which makes it completely impossible for me to properly concentrate on my upcoming exams in 1.5 weeks. Every possible distraction (like writing in this blog) is promptly seized and devoured eagerly. The need for me to finish this exam properly is very real: expectations abound after all, mostly from myself.
But really, I just want to go home.
