I want to be fast in the day and slow at night. I want to wonder at the London lights ever night like it’s my first. I want a friend to notice something’s up. I want a drinking buddy. I want a “usual”. I want to appear in magazines. I want to meet a celebrity that I don’t know is a celebrity. I want life long friends. I want to just miss someone. I want someone running after me. I want to save up for shows and night outs. I want to be around people like me. I want to say fuck too much. I want to wear any random fucking clothes I want. I want to make friends with someone who doesn’t speak english and I don’t speak their language. I want to holiday on the cheap with friends. I want contacts. I want to live in a shitty flat in London with 4 other people struggling to pay the rent. I want to have a bedroom as big as a cupboard. I want to smell the tobacco smoke seep in the back facing windows from the balcony we’re not supposed to go on. I want to have to make our own fun. I want to make the best of things. I want to be the only flatmate that cooks and cleans. I want to ride a vespa and drink chai lattes for breakfast. I want to train all day and party all night. I want to perform in the most glamorous surroundings and then take the tube back to our dirty little flat. I want to work my way through the ranks and be noticed as something special. I want a friend that’s a journalist who writes about us in her column. I want a friend who never stops swearing. I want a friend who thinks her inheritance is weighing her down and doesn’t mind splashing out. I want friends who are spontaneous and don’t need everything perfect to be happy. I want to overcome an addiction.
I want… everything I’ve ever been promised.
