Why do I feel so odd? Why can't I got for ten minutes without feeling that in the very near future my world is going to change, and I'm going to be lonely and scared and everyone else will be out having the party of their lives, making the most of the final hedonistic year of university?

Why do I feel that despite how much I sometimes hate it here, I really don't want to leave, because everything is basked in such a lovely light, everything in the past. Walking up and down Vic Street, house parties, halls-where it was always sunny, or that beautiful type of dusk, and night, when you are so happy. Of course sometimes it wasn't like that, but you always remember it that way. And Walkabout and Warehouse, those twilight evenings, in our glad rags, off to dance, the place bustling with faces you knew and ones you wanted to know.

And The Lemmy, from that first uninitiated wander around, to today, when I can't get through a weekend without it! The darkness, and the seediness of it. Throwing out time, when everyone is so friendly. People you see and chat to outside, who you wish you'd chatted to inside.


But why do I feel I'm not living with the right people? And so threatened by my friendship group? That there's gonna be people trying to squeeze me out, that people will forget about me?