I am guilty of indulging in nostalgia before the season warrants it. There's something so dreamy and precious about these last few days; throw in a bit of a sunshine and its almost unbearable. I have that familiar itch to throw my arms around the city and its inhabitants. I oscillate between loving and loathing my work, finding moments of inspiration in sterile computer rooms before rushing out to the park so I can lie in the sun and pretend that it's all over already. Everyone is responding differently: some are munching through packets of digestives, huddled in a study-cave, papering their walls with flash-cards and diagrams, others have lost the will to live, the phrase 'I think I did more work for my GCSEs than I'll be doing for my finals' thrown around, some are finished and are scampering around the country on numerous mini-adventures, people like myself are trying to maintain a balance, our simmering spontaneity breaking through at just the right moments. Work hard, play hard, that's the motto. Either way, I cannot help but notice, that despite all the stress, uncertainty and flatness, these are some of the happiest moments of my time here.
This is so uplifting! I sometimes think you never feel more alive than when you're hurtling towards a cliff. Because you know your life is about to change - whether for better or worse (or best of all, for "different") - and everything familiar and tried and true is lit with the light of final days and last times. You can't help but want to kiss strangers on the street or hug gnarly trees or lean against old stone walls and stare at the sky for hours. Indulge those feelings - before you know it you'll be used to something new and the shining light which transforms the usual into the unusual will have dimmed again.
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