Flame [h.s.]

34| Forever young

It's so hard to get old without a cause
I don't want to perish like a fading horse
Youth's like diamonds in the sun
And diamonds are forever

Harry

Ten years ago

Noon. 

The best time to be alive in this crusty old apartment, in my opinion.

My flatmates were all either sleeping, some of them sleeping on the floor right next to me without even a blanket to cover them, possibly because they got home too drunk a few hours ago to find their way to their bed, or they were out and about doing their own thing.

Which meant I was alone, not physically of course, but mentally alone, something I have grown fond of after spending the last few years sharing an apartment with other ten people. At the beginning it bothered me, the noise, the mess but now we were all just a big family. And sometimes it meant that family came and went, as time passed. The only ones who remained here, year after year were Mitch, Claire, and me. The three of us have been living here in this old apartment in the heart of Camden town for four years now, it was truly our home, no matter how broken this place was.

None of us minded that the fridge was too small for ten people, or that the floor had stains probably from their past owners which didn't come out no matter how much you scrubbed it, or how you had to share your personal space with many other people. We enjoyed living in a community, like a modern version of the hippies, you could say.

Despite what people might think when they see us, we work very hard. Most of us struggle to maintain two jobs. One job is for survival, to make sure we have enough money to eat and pay the rent, the other job is pure pleasure, doing what we love the most, even if we barely make any money out of it.

It didn't feel like work when we got out to the streets to play, sometimes together, sometimes by ourselves. It didn't feel like work when the weather was so cold, your knuckles froze just so you could stand outside the tube station hoping someone would notice you. It didn't feel like work even when everyone ignored you and you came home with an empty stomach and an even emptier pocket.

It didn't feel like work because we were doing what we loved, and that was all we needed to make through each day.

Most people don't understand why we do it, why we don't simply give up and find a steadier job, one which can actually afford us a comfortable life, but what they don't understand is that we don't do this for the money. It's easier for someone with a stable life to judge someone like me, but what they don't know is how I have never had anyone to guide me. I never had caring parents who pushed me to study, to be a good student so I could have a good job. My life was not filled with good examples, people I should look up to.

Instead, they pushed me away just so they could live as junkies freely. And to be honest, considering the shitty environment I was brought up in, I came out pretty normal. I might not live a normal life according to society standards, but at least I am a functional human being with morals and values, who works hard to make ends meet.

I have no one to be proud of myself, so I have to be the one to do it. 

And I am fucking proud of myself.

Now I'm sitting by the window as I enjoy the view from the second floor. Endless tourists walk by the streets of Camden town, completely amazed by the atmosphere lived in this place. It can't be explained, at least not in words what this place feels like. It is a place for outsiders like me to feel at home, and I surely feel like home here. It is a vibrant place, made by the people who live here, who make this a home. It is incredible seeing foreigners enjoy this place as much as we do.