Late September, 2014…
A vice of darkness in my chest.
Student halls are a seemingly benign but incredibly destructive place for many of us. They made me feel trapped and suffocated in an unambitously provincial experience, far from the realm of light, sophistication and joy I so longed for.
I felt chronically misunderstood by many, it feeling like an extension of my claustrophobic hometown of The Wirral, my escape cut short for nine months.
A tropical bird of paradise trapped in brutalist concrete confinement in room 101.
But twelve months on, I’m strong, skin warm from the spring sun, my clothes as colourful as my soul.
Not today Satan!