Being alone in Wolverhampton is useful for a number of reasons.
At the moment, I have absolute freedom. I'm not saying that when I go back to Brighton I will spend my hours in a prison cell, but it's just that living with anyone means some preconceptions of what you have to do.
At home, for example, they probably wouldnt like it if I sat around in boxers and a t-shirt most of the day because I can't be bothered to put on some jeans.
It also gives me licence to eat whatever I want. Social parameters define that I am not allowed to, for example, have a dinner that is combined entirely of suasage and green pesto. I'd look stupid. More stupid than usual.
I'd also imagine that if I wanted to blast Four Year Strong at midnight as loud as my computer speakers will get, my parents would take offence to that too.
However, being on your own, especially in the scenario where I have had to limit my social contact fairly violently in order to give myself enough time to get all my work done, comes with some less fun attributes.
Thinking too much, a condition we all suffer from, manifests itself quite badly. My thoughts tend to lock themselves attempting to balance optimism and realism. But then, just when you start to actually start confronting the problem of over-thinking it becomes even worse, because you start worrying that thinking too much is starting to affect your attitude towards things, except now you have nothing left to do but think.
Hence I have filled my truly free time filling up Grooveshark with songs that are as loud, up-tempo, or heavy as my fragile music taste will allow. Aggressive music tends to put me in a better mood at the moment, I don't remotely have the time to be introspective.
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