Sunday, May 04, 2003
OK, the home town thing I couldn't post yesterday. The gist of it was; Maidstone is a depressing place, with crap architecture, a river that barely qualifies as such and little else to recommend it. If you don't grow up wanting to leave it you're already dead. It has no future and is bulldozing it's past in a desperate attempt to lull hapless inhabitants into a narcotised state of believing nothing will ever change. It's overwhelmingly white and overpoweringly straight. If Kent is the Garden of England it is the brown patch of earth over the cesspit. or possibly the cesspit itself. Whenever I go back there to see my folks I feel like I've never been away, like everything I've done doesn't matter, like I'm the teenager I was when they made me leave by going to university.
It was something like that.
It was something like that.
