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Goodbye, my London

I'm already feeling anxious and I haven't even bought the ticket. I have made it more real by telling people. My stupid aunt. Why is she so stupid? Why? I don't want to talk to her about it, but then she already knows because my mum told S who told A. Fuck them all. Nothing at all is sacred. And then she has the gall to tell me 'don't tell your dad' about something. I said, why the hell would I tell him anything? And she says, 'because you tell him everything.' What the fuck? Why the fuck is she projecting her stupid shadow on me? I said, ' what do you mean, I tell him everything?' She's like, well you have a joint bank account and he knows how much money you have. And when I told you to be careful, you said 'what? Are you saying I shouldn't trust my father?'

See what I have to deal with? How the hell is that telling him anything/everything? He's my fucking father. The food he cooks is the food that enters my stomach. The food he buys is the food I eat. The jokes he makes are the jokes I listen to. He buys me phone cards so I can ring my mother.

FUCK OFF, TWATS.

And then, I am thinking of how big a mistake I am making. One of many, I suppose. Fati, I really hope my stupid prince comes to Karachi for a holiday 'scouting for girls' or something. This has got to be lamest thing ever to enter my head, but I am so stressed and don't really want to go back there. I hope to God it's temporary.

I've been thinking of what I will miss:

1) No recycling facilities, everything is chucked into the bin and onto landfills
2) No sparrow, pigeon, blackbird songs to wake up to. Only crows.
3) I can't drive. No TfL to take me anywhere. Rely on a driver, which right now we don't have.
4) I won't be left alone.

Oh, this is just making me so sad.

I just remembered about the monkey. He was eating a roti. I loved him. I loved his owner too, for feeding him. Let me make the most of this move.
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