My last few years

I’ll start by saying: wherever there’s hope, there’s disappointment…
I don’t know why I visited the place; I hadn’t been to the park for years…Since, probably, at least it is the latest I can remember, me and my girlfriend were little love-birds humping each-other in the toilets. It looked, smelt– felt the same, indeed, so much so that one can only call it, eccentric. Maybe it is the hopefulness the memories possessed that took me there– or maybe my sheer lack of recent-by recent I mean the last 4 years- memories urged me to find comfort in memories that once promised new ones. I really do not know what it was, but something happened, something commanded me to write down everything that had happened in the last 3-4 years.

I had just finished University, graduating with a degree in Media studies; I’ve always loved media studies and was glad to have graduated in what I loved. We’d, unfortunately, been born into a U.K. that valued money and power to such a degree that people with degree’s could not get a suitable position– a position that promised them the basics and a little more. So, almost as if to fool myself, I decided to take a 2 month break in which I was not going to the anything. And I did nothing– maybe, looking back, it seemed to be the only thing that went to plan. Yes, I planned to do nothing, and nothing is what I did. For the next few month’s proceeding my willful absence from the world, I was going to read books, watch movies and dwell into my loneliness. Month’s turned into years.

After jumping from dead-end job to dead-end for two years, I became a employee in a kitchen; a line chef, as they so proudly named the position. When I first started, I could not believe that I was getting paid to make food; I love making food. “You seem so happy when your cooking,” said the Kitchen Manager, every time I pretended to be busy with cooking. Needless to say, like most things, it all became routine; Oh, I have, yet, another pasta to make– it is the same dish as the last three…But one of them want’s Parmesan instead of Mozzarella; that’s a change…This is as far as my routine was interrupted… Maybe, if I was lucky, and if we were having a quite night, Richard would put me in one of the other stations. Of course, this was a temporary job, as you know, ‘you start somewhere and something good will come along.’ What bullshit, nothing good ever came with working in a shit-hole.

Seven months had passed and I had already grown tired of the place. The people were boring me, the work was repetitious, I had not life. So, I decided to quit in June 2014 and apply for master’s degree. I was accepted into MA Journalism… I’m doing O.K. in it. It has now been 6 month’s, and even though I had severe bouts of depression, I’m doing ‘fine’ in my grades. But, I’m still alone, still lonely, still hopeless…