I knew the last day in UK will be like this. I knew I have someone to rely on. Matt wrote nice, but from my underestimating point of view, not so true comment on my certificate, which I afterwards almost lost. But skip it to the late afternoon, skip it to the part, when I met Soon Jae in Piccadilly Circus and he did the same nudge to my back as I usually did to him. He took me to tuck shop and why I ate chocolate icecream - I don't know.
-"Why are we in a gallery? D'you like art?" -"No, I just thought you would like it." he replied. We sat on the fountain's sill and guessed what country people around us may be from, we sat on a pavement on Trafalgar Square, we sat in the second floor of the bus, we sat in a train and asked each other about boy/girlfriends and planned our next session. Well, it was more than fabulous. I should wash my jeans, but I won't, I don't want to wash away the icecream stain, which leaked on it - I don't want to forget.
It was too late when I got home, about ten o'clock, I think. I quickly packed my suitcase and went to the opposite side of London, to my aunt. She said "I'm worried how to get you on the airport and the only thing you think of is if there's Starbucks near departure hall!" and maybe she was right and maybe I was just too overwhelmed by everthing when sitting in underground I took in to clutching the seat so tight I thought I was insane. I just didn't want to go.
In the night I ate another spoonfuls of icecream and slept for three hours.
A morning so early I couldn't believe there was loads of people, a morning so early the sun was starting to rise, a morning so early I loved, loved, loved the moment when I was eating my breakfast and thought Fuck, if this is not England, what is it?
Thereafter I was asked "What happened, what happened with you?" and "Do you have something in your belly?", which was so awkwardly funny. And yeah, then I wave goodbye from the airplane window and London started to retreat, retreat, meantime it was little tiny blur.
-"Why are we in a gallery? D'you like art?" -"No, I just thought you would like it." he replied. We sat on the fountain's sill and guessed what country people around us may be from, we sat on a pavement on Trafalgar Square, we sat in the second floor of the bus, we sat in a train and asked each other about boy/girlfriends and planned our next session. Well, it was more than fabulous. I should wash my jeans, but I won't, I don't want to wash away the icecream stain, which leaked on it - I don't want to forget.
It was too late when I got home, about ten o'clock, I think. I quickly packed my suitcase and went to the opposite side of London, to my aunt. She said "I'm worried how to get you on the airport and the only thing you think of is if there's Starbucks near departure hall!" and maybe she was right and maybe I was just too overwhelmed by everthing when sitting in underground I took in to clutching the seat so tight I thought I was insane. I just didn't want to go.
In the night I ate another spoonfuls of icecream and slept for three hours.
A morning so early I couldn't believe there was loads of people, a morning so early the sun was starting to rise, a morning so early I loved, loved, loved the moment when I was eating my breakfast and thought Fuck, if this is not England, what is it?
Thereafter I was asked "What happened, what happened with you?" and "Do you have something in your belly?", which was so awkwardly funny. And yeah, then I wave goodbye from the airplane window and London started to retreat, retreat, meantime it was little tiny blur.
