Glasgow is broken windows and bills to pay. Gregg's bacon and cheese wraps, museums, bikes, houses to leave, and houses to find, houses to live. Empty fridges and showers in the darkness, unhealthy food, secondhand bookshops, never-paid fines from the library, Mumford and sons, architecture, technical drawings and models to cut your fingers. It's exams and anxiety, it's sunshine and rain and snow and sunshine again. The necropolis, wetherspoons' toilets, poundland, it's the forty minutes home-uni everyday, Govan to hate, Govan to love, Wiston blue for 6 pounds, it's homesick and fear, overseas calls, it's cappuccino for lunch. It's wet clothes on the radiator and clothes everywhere and clothes who-knows-whose-are-these, it's going home in the evening and find them, it's the fights for the cleaning turns, it's the three of us in the bathroom, it's being paranoid for ever noise, It's used filters and using the same towels. It's me and him and his kisses in the morning, it's I love you and silences, first times, it's promises, it's his ninja turtles t-shirt. Glasgow is the smell of changes and choices, Glasgow is memories and future, Glasgow the saviour, the love, all I needed, all I want.
Federica Giardino