Just some thoughts.

Sometimes i want to know how it feels to run away. To go somewhere i haven't been to before and just stay there for a while. I don't have a passport, and I've never been abroad, so it isn't as simple as it seems, but when i get there - wherever it may be, i don't want to be alone. I want to be forced to make conversation with new people, in new places, and do new things.

The issue with running away is that there's no going back. The whole intention of running away is to leave the life you have, but i'd want to come back to mine. I can't call it a holiday, because a holiday is planned, and you don't do it alone. I don't know what to call this urge, this impulse, other than selfish, if there is no term for it, why am i so sure i want it.

A girl with curly hair and the best intentions has just walked up to me in the library, while i'm writing this. she asked me if i was okay, because of what I've decided to write about. "I'm fine" I told her rather unconvincingly. The thing is, I am fine. Just fine. No better or worse. I'm that in between that's so easy to ignore. I'm not a threat, and why would i want to be. I'ts fine that i'm fine about being fine.

After i write this i'm going to have my last can of beer, watch something on Netflix or Amazon and go to bed. when i wake up i'll be going to the newsroom to write about ten stories about things going on in Bradford, go to the gym for an hour or so and then go back to my room, in my shitty, stuffy, smelly halls and go to bed. I do the same thing every day. I now understand the concept of 'work, eat, sleep, repeat.

I wouldn't want to run away (or whatever you call it), or feel just fine if my life wasn't just so repetitive.

I joined the gym, because people started telling me how much weight I've gained. Being recently single, after year of comfort and happiness with my ex, hearing something like that more than once in the space of a week made me crack. I try so hard to be that guy that doesn't care about how he looks, who doesn't care about people's opinions, but i think my walls fell down when i met him, and i haven't fully gained the strength to build them back up since he left.

I've been going to this small, sometimes intimidating gym on campus at my uni, and so far I've lost a stone. When i joined, i had to go to this pathway meeting, where a tall, athletic man told me what i need to do, to stop being such a lard arse. I thought i didn't have much to lose, that my fitness wasn't that bad, that it wouldn't be so hard to get into shape. I was wrong, and when i stood on the scales, i was shocked at how wrong i was.

I have a few more weeks until my membership is up, and i go back to my small town in Greater Manchester that no one's ever heard of. In that time, i'll keep going to the gym, because i know i need to lose weight, but you won't see me smiling about it. I think I've lost desire now , because it's been woven into my routine, into my daily ritual that i despise so passionately, making me contemplate running.

When i go home i'll have the chance to change things, break my routine, live life, and i can't wait. People who love those stupid sayings and 'inspirational' quotes will be cumming into their fanny packs when i say; why live life so boring? Grab life by the balls (if you're a girl, grab life by the flaps? i don't know, i'm gay, don't blame me) and do things you actually want to do. if not you'll be sat alone in your room (or in the library at your uni, like me), reading my stupid rants and hating your average life. Break the cycle. I can't wait to break mine.