Rob, Rambling - A lot of things interest me...

I’m going to assume that agirlcalledhenrietta took this photo of the inside of the Barbican complex, because it’s a fucking awesome shot. It reminds me of when I had my graduation ceremony there a few years back.

I spent 4 years at King’s College London to do my law degree, minus a year in Germany when I was 21, and it culminated in a ceremony at the Barbican with gowns and certificates.

My parents didn’t trust me to make it to the ceremony on time from my then abode, so booked me a hotel room neighbouring their own, for two nights.

I have to admit that my final year at uni was a slog; my friends had all graduated, and I couldn’t be bothered to make new friends. I just wanted the whole university/poor period of my life to be over and done with, and to get out into the real world.

For my parents, however, it was all about the ceremony, because I’m the eldest grandchild in the family. I still feel like a bit of an outcast because I couldn’t introduce them to X hundred friends.

For them, it was one of those moments of recognisation of the money that they’d put into my education, although maybe not quite the recognisation of how it had made me the man I am today.

It’s still one of those moments that will forever be engraved on my memory.

I just wish that I might’ve felt differently at the time, and maybe REALISED just how important it was to my parents, even if it meant fuck all to me.

I’m going to assume that agirlcalledhenrietta took this photo of the inside of the Barbican complex, because it’s a fucking awesome shot. It reminds me of when I had my graduation ceremony there a few years back.

I spent 4 years at King’s College London to do my law degree, minus a year in Germany when I was 21, and it culminated in a ceremony at the Barbican with gowns and certificates.

My parents didn’t trust me to make it to the ceremony on time from my then abode, so booked me a hotel room neighbouring their own, for two nights.

I have to admit that my final year at uni was a slog; my friends had all graduated, and I couldn’t be bothered to make new friends. I just wanted the whole university/poor period of my life to be over and done with, and to get out into the real world.

For my parents, however, it was all about the ceremony, because I’m the eldest grandchild in the family. I still feel like a bit of an outcast because I couldn’t introduce them to X hundred friends.

For them, it was one of those moments of recognisation of the money that they’d put into my education, although maybe not quite the recognisation of how it had made me the man I am today.

It’s still one of those moments that will forever be engraved on my memory.

I just wish that I might’ve felt differently at the time, and maybe REALISED just how important it was to my parents, even if it meant fuck all to me.


Reblogged from: agirlcalledhenrietta
Originally posted on: a girl. her world.

Duhn dundunduhn, Duhn dundunduhn, it’s nothing at all.

Ah, Sam Smiths pubs, let me count the ways in which I love thee: somehow you are cheaper than a Wetherspoons, yet attract a much trendier, less trampy crowd. Your beers are decent, and you possess a lively, bouncing atmosphere. Oh, and you have a dartboard. That is a win in anybody’s book.

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Londoner, thinking and writing far too much about far too many random things. Wannabe photo-/videographer of my life. More likely to be found propping up a bar somewhere.

I also write about football.

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