Manto Lane. Vauxhall can wait.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

 At the onset of 21, you're not left with many "first time"s which is what's making this brightly infectious for me. I can smell the clouds as I walk past them, already thanking those rare few moments when sunlight reflects on my face. I see myself prancing around the place, getting wasted at the SOAS bar and picking up the accent (bluh-dee-helle).

I'm thrilled for my classes begin in a day. London's very vintage, if I speak the way, fashionistas would put it, for a photoshoot. Mid tone, grainy and very chic, complete with pearls and shells- that's London for you. There isn't much scope of getting lost and found in the alleyways. Most people are friendly, too bad, they speak English. Goals, they come, they go. London, 2012. Exactly how I wanted. Everything. Life's at it's exciting best. I hope I get to party with Harry and give him a head, while I'm at it .

That could have been me. I am just sitting here, where I was; four years ago, when I decided SOAS. I'll probably be sitting for the next 4o to come. 

Baby, it's cold outside. 

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