Hometown Monologue.

Backstory: I decided to walk home from ASDA today, and took a route past my old high school, at which point ideas for a blogpost flooded my mind, and I had no way of recording them down other than to record it as a monologue on my phone. I didn't intend to speak as much as I did, especially as I was just outside and knew people could be listening, but this is what I came up with (with ums, ahhs, and corrections edited out).
Warning: This will likely be repetitive and jump from idea to idea with no logic and will be laid out weirdly. But it will be raw and honest.
(Points in parentheses added for clarification)

I walk for the exercise.
Normally I'll walk through the shopping centre, but I didn't think it through when I decided to walk home at half past 6. So, the shopping centre was closed.
I could choose one of many routes, all of which involve stairs which I'm not a massive fan of with the problems I have with my knees. So I decided to take the route, although in reverse, I travelled so many times during the 5 years I spent in the place in my hometown that raises the most anxiety in my life, my high school.
I walked over the river, which was more beautiful than I remember it, and steering clear of the grounds (I mean the path running along the front of the school, the gates were obviously locked), which I hadn't set foot in in just over three years, I walked round and noticed the signs that were on the front of the school - their GCSE success, as if! The most successful year they had was about 3 years ago, when I left! They didn't even meet the national targets this year, which doesn't surpise me at all! Well, they did sack the old head teacher, so with a bit of luck they'll improve again but I wouldn't recommend anyone send their child there anyway, the place is... well it's a very very rubbish place.

I'm walking down a broken path, and over a bridge to where for the first 2 years, my dad used to pick me up - because apparently that was easier so he didn't have to venture into town centre, which if you've ever been on a school run you'll know that's true. You can see the bus stop that I got a bus from for about 3 months, before me and my best friend at the time decided that it would be easier to go through the Concourse - the shopping centre I mentioned before that I couldn't walk through - then we'd be guaranteed a seat and the bus wouldn't drive past us like it often did when it was already full of students that had got on at the Concourse.

I don't remember this bridge taking me as long when I had shorter legs and wasn't as fit. I used to hate PE; but what nerd doesn't hate PE, let's be honest.

The aren't any students around at the minute, it's half past 6 on a Friday. Normally they'll hang around till about half 4-5, considering they finish at quarter past 3. Quite long time. I used to walk straight the shopping centre with my friend at the time - Jade, whose mum I saw in the ASDA, so that was weird. I'm glad she wasn't there. Would be quite annoying really, considering I have no make-up on right now.

I can see the (low and flat) bollard I used to sit on and wait when my dad was late, hope that nobody I didn't like would try and speak to me. Sat here once when I walked in new shoes and couldn't walk the rest of the way to get the bus (back home, due to blisters).

Double deckers, that's a thing we never had, thank God. There'd have been fights on the top deck with no driver to watch out. Happens now, I've seen it.

I always sit on the bottom now. Again, knees! Or at least that's my excuse.

I'm back towards the route I'd normally take walking home, and I've only wasted what, 10 minutes going a different way? Never mind.

At the very least I managed to snap a couple of pictures by the river before, before the chavs walked down the steps - ha, STEPS - that I had to walk up. I don't know if you know, but the north west of England was caught in the tail-end of a hurricane recently and one of the trees appears to have snapped in half; half if it is still standing and the other half of it is half falling over. I'll upload the picture if I can.

I got the river, managed not to get any of the litter, which is not something you can usually do.

It's weird. I used to get panic attacks - I still get them sometimes when I'm out shopping and I see people that I'm not a fan of - but like I said, it's now quarter to 7 on a Friday and I'm walking across the bridge over the dual carriageway towards a friend's house without a care in the world. It helps to know that in two weeks time - two weeks tomorrow to be exact - I'm going to be packing up my dads bus and going back to the place I call home.

A lot of people say they have uni and home, well I have home and I have where my parents live. Home is Lancaster. And the first time I called it home, when I was staying at my parents' house my mum almost started to cry, but held it back and later on said: when you called Lancaster home before, it both broke my heart and made me happy at the same time. You don't consider us home anymore but I know that's because of your relationship with this town. But I'm happy that you're happy where you are.

(If you read Facebook or Twitter you were probably expecting more. I cut it, I hate pretty much all of what I said and how I said it. But you'll still get the general gist of the rest in a future post).