I left my bed

Tough skinned, vicious, will eat you up alive if you let it, yet we are all fascinated by it. Before getting off the phone to my father, in tears, a little less than 2 months ago, I was offered the advice (or harsh reality) "to get a thicker skin". London seems to be all about this. Amongst the hustle and bustle of everyone trying to make a living wage and then some, we tread on anyone we possibly can to earn a few more pounds, to get a little more status, to fight for more success. At dinner yesterday, a good friend said to me, he would have no hesitation stamping on the people he liked to be more successful. I was confused that this was coming out of this lovely man's mouth. Is this just the London way? We have no problem hurting peoples feelings, being blunt is second nature and the ever far from candid, apologetic British way seizes to exist in this city. Much like in old people. I'm sad because deep down, I know in London you either sink or swim. For me, persona...

Bold title I know. But you know what? I'm going to get straight into it. I wrote this a while ago after having an outburst of rage. But Molly spoke to me today, about how no one ever really wants to be alone or away from who they love regardless of what they are doing and it reminded me of this and gave me the guts to re -post it.  I have read a lot of philosophy recently about love. Some beautiful, and some make me just plain right angry. I've been wanting to explore why it makes me so angry. Is it because I agree with it but was in denial? Or is it just because it's a fucking pile of crap. (I like the fact I typed fucking and then went with crap) The other day, I read an article, which I included in my personal statement about loving out of fear. I loved it and hated it. The quote is " The desire to control things and manipulate them to satisfy our ideal outcome does not come from love. It comes from the fear of letting go , the fear that things aren’t...