a few days back in the hometown

A few days in the hometown 

16/2/26- 20/2/26

Outside my favourite jewellery shop on the other side of the city, 3:14 pm

Tried to best to avoid bumping into people as I texted my Mother and spent a solid five minutes running over train and bus times. The Roommates were all off adventuring, re-rooting themselves in their hometowns or planting seeds of new memories in foreign places. Leaving me and these four walls to have some alone time. Got a bus to my favourite jewellery shop to kill some time when my Mother planted the idea that I too could return home. Pros of remote working. 

Didn’t get a chance to check for any sales or new silver pieces as I turned on my heels and got on the next bus back to my cosy college apartment. Torn apart my room looking for sweats, forgot my medication, threw chargers into my handbag, all while calling an Uber. Within the hour, I was on a train to the Capital. Always do things last minute, no planning around here. Made sure to send [Redacted] a photo of the Capital because it always makes me think of him, and how dearly I miss him. 

Scribbled down two new poetry ideas on the bus home, looking back on them, I’ve no idea how to make sense of it. 

17/2-18/2 

My hometown house.

Two very important holidays back-to-back. Pancake Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. Spent all of Tuesday inside. Working, talking, eating good pancakes or playing video games. Normally, I refuse to eat pancakes on Pancake Tuesday, a tradition I started for myself many years ago. Gave up on it this year as the pancakes my Mother were preparing just looked too good. Who would I be to refuse my Mother’s offer? Told my Mother over food how we should go to mass and get our ashes tomorrow. Now, I’m not exactly a religious one. We have a complicated relationship, the Church and I. However, this year I just wanted to experience it all again. Got caught up in work and didn’t end up going to mass. However, the Church prepared blessed ashes in tiny plastic bags and handed them out. Mother got me a bag and to be frank, it felt like a drug deal of sorts. Given a tiny clear bag. Stared in the mirror a bit too long trying to ensure my cross was perfect. None of the crosses I received from priests were perfect. They always ended up looking like a blob on my forehead. I’d forget I even have it, swearing and wiping at it, only making it worst. Sometimes, when we got a bit older, we’d all run around trying to see who got the prettiest ashes during lunch time. In hindsight, judging how pretty one’s ashes are feels like a sin. 

19/2/26

the local pub

Met with [Redacted 2] and [Redacted 3] outside the same shop we’ve been meeting up at since I was 12. It used to be such a go-to shop after school on a Friday. They did it up a few years ago, and it’s never been the same. It’s not as good now. Anyways, at 3 pm on Thursday during Lent, the three of us went to our local. My dear journal, I’ve told you about this pub before. How gross and sticky it is. The closest I’ve ever felt to dying was in the stalls of this pub. It’s a horrid place that we spent many years in. 

How I remember it is packed full of people way too young to be drinking, trying to get cigarettes off people older than their parents. Smoke and vape clouds greet you at the door, filling your lungs the entire night. Overhead lights and heaters were your only sources of light, since most of the time I went in, it was already dark. Run into that group of lads from secondary school, that you never really talked to unless there was drink in both your systems. Theyre a lot happier this way. Running over to co-workers only to end up talking about work and talking shit about the workplace, before you’re swept away into the main bar to get another drink. Live music blasting in your right ear, as people older than your mother drag each other onto the floor. A make-shift dance floor. By now, I’d probably run into [Redacted], and he’d try to convince me to get some awful-tasting thing like Jaeger.

It was not like that at 3 pm on the first Thursday of Lent, could you believe that? There were one or two older men at the main bar. One of them was excused by the bartender after he sneezed; he told her she was excused and should leave. She skipped around a bit with playful banter, saying she’d love nothing more than to leave. The type of banter you know holds a lot of truth. The fire was lightning inside; the pool tables were completely empty. A safe haven from the non-stop rain and fierce coldness. Do you think we stayed inside? Of course not, [Redacted 2] and [Redacted 3] each got a pint to warm their innards. The three of us sat outside in the cold smoking area for three hours talking about God-Only-Knows-What. Felt the cold seep into my bones, cursing myself for not wearing something around my neck to protect my throat. The days are slightly longer now, but by 6 pm, it was already looking dark. [Redacted 2] and I marched uphill home. It’s funny how we share a cosy college apartment now on the other side of the country, but back in this hometown, we are still only a few minutes away from each other. Linked arms as we kept walking, the cold air piercing our lungs. Only able to speak about how cold it was and how much longer we had. Stood at the bottom of the hill, grabbing each other as we parted ways. Spent the evening playing Minecraft while my brother tried to explain his Pokémon team to me. Watched far too much British money-winning shows for one household, like Deal or No Deal. Decided I’d love to go on one of them, despite my lack of knowledge, I believe I could win big (delusion).