Hello there; The Angel from My Nightmare in Chapter 9 : Oil Above Water

I’ve lived my life trying not to be a product of my environment. I don’t want to be a product of my environment but my environment doesn’t want to infiltrated by me either. I’ve spent my whole life trying not to be absorbed by the area where I ultimately “came from”. Yet here I am waiting to move back there. Instead of my usual push and fight against the inevitable until my world implodes and crushes me against the world around me once more, I’ve decided this time to surrender. This time I’m not fighting it. This time I’m going back to where I came, and I think I’m ok with it. Currently I’m living in The Burbs. I live in a cute little Cul-de-Sac of former council houses that are all now privately owned/rented and my god, the hassle and grief that goes on about the pettiest of shit. Give me a council flat in The Ghetto any day over this nonsense. One neighbour actually had the nerve to question me about the pizza boxes I was putting out; why wasn’t I recycling them? Errr the box says non-recyclable. Do I eat Pizza everyday? Pretty much if I don’t have the kids yeah. How can I eat Pizza when I’m Vegan? Err, take the cheese off and no meat. Pretty sure flour and water are Vegan. She went on and on with her questions, getting blunter answers with each round of interrogation. Thank god for the Amazon man coming to my rescue with a package that needed my signature. We have 12 houses, and there are various battles going, I don’t have the time or patience for the politics of Privilige. Take me back to where my neighbours don’t give a shit about my diet or my rubbish or where I park my car. As long as the junkies are quiet and take their needles with them I can just about deal with the ghetto. Give me 200 odd flats where my neighbours couldn’t pick me out of a line-up even if there was a neon arrow above my head screaming “IT’S HER!” My current neighbours tell me that due to me being so quiet and the blinds always drawn (top-tip - keeps it warm in winter, cool in summer) that they thought I’d moved ages ago. Yet I can hear every step they crash down, every row they have when drunk, their teen spawn have illicit sex whilst their parents aren’t home; all the shit you expect in a flat but less so when you’re in a 2-up/2-down in The Burbs. I hold my hands up to it; I had stereotypical image of what I expected it to be like to live among the first rung of the priviliged in Small Town. I expected it to be a lot more civilised yet it’s not. It’s the same as The Ghetto only swap the heroin and Diamond White for white wine and barbeques. Swap the tracksuits and Nike Airs for M&S and Michael Kors.

I’m most definitely a square peg.