I feel like the weather.
I chose to start off my stay here in Autumn, and I'm enjoying it. When I'm on the street or walking through a park, I take the time to appreciate autumn. I like stepping on dried leaves, making the crushing sound as I step on them and just dragging my feet to hear the rustling sound, something I learnt from watching my manager walk. But I do really enjoy the changing colours of leaves and the trees going bare. A friend once told me that Autumn makes trees ugly because they become bare, and all you see are skeleton looking trees. This morning in the bus on the way to work, I look at the bare trees and thought about what he said and the very next thought that came to my mind was "I feel the same way as the trees. Bare and sad. Without you".
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Many times I don't like to be bothered by thoughts like that, but they sure come rolling down the hill when I'm alone. This reminds me why I like working. I like being occupied. Then I wouldn't think about things that upset me.
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I'm moving to a different house at the end of this month. Sharing a toilet between 6 person has taken its toll on me. I refuse to face the day when I'm force to pee in a bag or in a park solely because I couldn't control my system for 30 minutes while someone is taking a shower. One thing for sure, I will miss some of my housemates.
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I'm moving further from London and paying more for the room and transportation to work. Next month onwards my room and transportation will take up more than half of my monthly wage. I'm not quitting pub job anytime soon. I need it as extra pocket money. Especially when I plan to go to Sicily this December. Why am I going to an island in winter? Thing is, I really want to go back to Italy but wasn't sure where I should go. Then I figured best to be somewhere I've not been. So Palermo it is. Once I go for a holiday, I will be over it. I will come back to knowing what my priorities are and let the sad feelings past.
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You can come and go and come back again. But when you leave now, I will not let it hurt me.

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