Never thought I'd miss Melbourne so much. Farrer Hall, O-week, me 8 by 10 inch concrete res room on 2nd Floor Lords, Monash Meeting Point with $2.20 handrolls, wedges and sweet chili sauce, The Roxannes- formally known as Kanye West-formally known as Group 13, the walk to the Nott, Fibonacci's Chai-Tea Lattes, slops, tv marathons, the terrible dance music, the 80's revival mullets and skinnys on all the men and women, the aussie accent, and the goon...most of all the goon. My ghetto phone with the really loud ring going off at precisely 4am every morning, the avacados, Flinder's Street Station and random hip hop classes off of Chapel street....St Kilda bakeries, sour straps and shoe shopping, Chaddy, the useless buses in Clayton, Murrummbeena station in the train window and Federation Square's artificial stars...the Yarra lit up in fireworks, the ferris wheel, the southern cross and of course the people.
but no worries, mates. I'm continuing the blogging business in my last year to keep me sane of course...but i cant help but feel so incredibly nostalgic...
"The moments of the past do not remain still; they retain in our memory the motion which drew them towards the future, towards a future which has itself become the past, and draw us on in their train." - Marcel Proust
