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photography, Kitti, art, me, kink

Kitti, the Unstoppable Hex Machine

...and a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries...

Vent *Rant Warning*
photography, Kitti, art, me, kink

Srsly. WTF?!

So, I'm changing my entire life to go and be with my mum in what look like her last months/year(s)/whatever. I am leaving behind a good (albeit boring and stressful as shit), well paid job, a boyfriend who I adore, the open mic scene, all my friends and everything I've built for myself since I was 17. I'm leaving this to move to a chav-infested, rural town with little career prospects, hardly any music scene, and no friends at all because all the friends I did have, have moved away (quite rightly).

My plan was to get a menial job in order to pay my debts, and study for my BSc with Open University, plus spend a lot more time on my art and my music, and in general contemplation (as well as look after mum and be there at night when she wakes up/needs bathing/etc)

I am, as is understandable, incredibly emotional about this. Yes, it's been my choice, but it's been a case of wanting to do my duty, be a good daughter and a good sister (my sis wants to go to uni so can't necessarily take care of mum anymore) rather than spend my life frivolously down here in my little garden of sin (which I adore), and one day recieve a call telling me I don't have a Mother anymore, and wanting to kill myself for not being a better daughter.

Anyway.... emotions are definitely running high right now, I've resigned from my job, half my stuff is in boxes, I'm struggling to pack and also see all my friends before I go (let alone Stevie, who I'll miss most of all) and I am being told that, when workmen came to redo my mum's kitchen, the found asbestos, so the kitchen is now a biohazard, there's banging and crashing from the workmen, and mum's not living there right now because of it. This is all cool, but I'm being told that I must still live there, and am basically forbidden to sleep at anyone else's house while this work is being carried out. My moving is meant to be beneficial for my entire family, and my Father is acting as though I'm some kind of homeless doley crawling back to my family cause I can't hack the real world. Amazing amounts of gratitude there, hey?

I'd just as soon stay in Brighton if I'm going to be banished from staying in different places, or indeed away from a an asbestos-filled work site. I'll be damned if I'm making Stevie sleep there if they're gonna bang and crash around, he doesn't need to deal with that after driving all that way and having to say goodbye, and drive all the way back on his own.

Fucking monkeys. GAH!

photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
I don't want to go.

Take me back a month so I can make a different choice.

I feel like crying. I wish I wasn't at work.