Finished Book Spread Reduced

IF I COME FROM NOTHING MUCH AT ALL,
THEN SURELY THIS IS A FAULTLESS NOTHING
TO COME FROM, GREENS MORE VIBRANT
THAN EMERALDS GARNER, FORESTS OF
ANCIENT OAKS BATHED IN GOLDEN RAYS
MELTING INTO BLUE SKIES,
FLOWING INTO STREETS LINED WITH
ANTIQUATED WONDERS.
WE ARE TOLD TO SEARCH OUR HOW LIVES FOR PEACE,
WITHOUT REALISING, IT IS STARING AT US DEFIANTLY.

THERE'S A SENSE OF
ENTITLEMENT AND OWNERSHIP
TO THE PLACES WE COME FROM,
I GREW UP IN AN AREA WHERE
MOST OF THE BUILDINGS WERE
MEDIEVAL, THE NAME IS JUTISH,
AND THE VALLEY HAS NEOLITHIC
ROOTS. SURROUNDED BY ALL
THAT HISTORY, YOU QUICKLY
LEARN THAT WHAT IS AROUND
YOU WAS HERE BEFORE YOU
AND WILL DEFINITELY OUTLAST
YOU TOO. MY UNCLE ONCE SAID,
FIVE MINUTES IN THE CITY IS AKIN
TO FIVE HUNDRED YEARS IN THE
CITY, CULTURAL ROOTS RUN
DEEP, BUT BLOOD RUNS DEEPER.
EVERYTHING HAS ITS PLACE.
DON'T FIX WHAT INT BROKE AND
IF IT IS STILL DON'T FIX IT, WE
LIKE IT THAT WAY.
THE IDEA THAT CULTURE
DEVELOPS INDEPENDENTLY
FROM ANY OTHER SOCIETY IS
A COMPLETE FALLACY. FROM
THE BEGINNING OF TIME, AS
A SPECIES, WE HAVE BEEN A
MIGRATING PEOPLE. MANKIND
MOVED FOR SAFETY AND
RESOURCES, THEY ALWAYS HAVE
TAKEN PART OF THEIR HOME
WITH THEM AS THEY GO. IT'S A
COMFORT, SOMETHING INTRINSIC
TO US WHETHER IT IS A BELIEF
SYSTEM, RECIPES OR LANGUAGE
WILL ALWAYS BE TAKEN
WHEREVER WE GO.

PEOPLE SAY DISCONNECTING FROM
HISTORY, LEAVES YOUR FUTURE
IN THE CONTROL OF OTHERS.
HOWEVER, IF YOU KNOW TOO
MUCH OF YOUR PAST, ARE YOU
CONSTRAINED IN THE OPPOSITE?
DOES KNOWING TOO MUCH MEAN
YOU'RE PREDESTINED TO
ABIDE BY IT.

INHABITING AN AREA WHERE
YOUR LINEAGE DATES BACK
FIVE HUNDRED YEARS IS A
CONFLICT. YOU FEEL TORN AMID
DESIRES TO SET OUT ON THE
ROAD LESS TRAVELLED, WHILE
ALSO WISHING TO CARRY ON
THE TRADITIONS THAT HAVE
SURROUNDED YOU GROWING UP.
THERE'S AN UNDENIABLE
TRANQUILLITY THAT COMES
FROM UNDERSTANDING WHERE
YOU ORIGINATE FROM, THAT'S
TRUE OF ANY PLACE.

I AM IN AN UNDERSTANDING OF
FEUDS FROM FAMILIES THAT HAVE
LONG SINCE DIED OUT, AND I CAN
NAME THE STREETS AND HOUSES
WHOSE OWNERS HAVE SINCE
REDEVELOPED, EVEN BEFORE MY
EXISTENCE. I KNOW THE NAMES
READ OUT IN THE REMEMBRANCE
SERVICE, AND I KNOW OF THE ONES
WHO STAYED HOME SECURING
DODGY DEALS OUT THE BACK OF
THE PUB. ALL THESE FOOTNOTES
OF HISTORY, BY RIGHTS,
FREQUENTLY FORGOTTEN, HAVE
BEEN PASSED DOWN TO ME, AND
I KNOW OF NOT OF WHAT TO DO
WITH THEM.

FROM MY BIRTH TO MY
GRANDPARENTS BIRTH, THE
YEARS INTERVENING SPAN THE
WHOLE OF THE TWENTIETH
CENTURY, OR CLOSE ENOUGH
TO IT, ALL OF THE EVENTS
THEY EXPERIENCED WAS SAID
TO MY DAD (THEN ONTO ME)
AS FIRST-HAND ACCOUNTS. AS
WELL AS THE STORIES THEY
HAD PASSED DOWN FROM THEIR
RESPECTIVE GRANDPARENTS
TO HIM. WHAT DOESN'T HELP IN
THE COUNTRYSIDE IS THE USE OF
OUR, YOUR, AND MY TO DENOTE
RELATIONSHIPS, WHICH MEANS
TRYING TO PIECE TOGETHER
THESE CONJOINED PASTS
LEAVES YOU KNOWING THEY
ARE RELATED SOMEHOW AND
SOMEWHEN, BUT YOU'RE NOT
EXACT ON DETAILS.

TO BE IN THE FOREST IS TO
SURROUND YOURSELF WITH
ANCIENT LIFE. TO WONDER HOW
MANY PEOPLE TROD THOSE
PATHS BEFORE YOU TOOK STEPS
THERE, KNOWING THAT THIS
SPACE IS ALMOST UNDIVIDEDLY
LIMINAL. ALWAYS ON THE CUSP
OF NEW LIFE WHILE STILL
BURGEONING WITH OLD. EERILY
QUIET, WITH LIFE LINGERING,
HIDING FROM THE DISTURBANCE
OF YOUR PRESENCE. YET, IT
IS EASY TO UNDERSTAND THE
STORIES THAT COME FROM
THESE AREAS. GHOSTLY,
DISHEVELLED GREY HORSES THAT
LOOM OVER PATHWAYS READY
TO LEAD TRAVELLERS ASTRAY
AND SPIRITS OF FORGOTTEN
KINGS SLINKING UNDERNEATH
BRANCHES ON TRAILS THEY'LL
NOT COMPLETE.

THE NEW FOREST HAD BEEN
HOME FOR CENTURIES TO
ROMANI PEOPLE. THE TERRAIN
SUITED THEM; THEY COULD LIVE
IN A NOMADIC WAY WITHOUT
DISTURBANCE. ROMANI'S
PRIMARILY FOUND A HOME IN THE
FOREST BUT HAD PRACTICES
OF SEASONAL MIGRATING
THROUGHOUT THE COUNTY TO
SUPPORT VILLAGES IN THEIR
HARVESTS OF STRAWBERRIES
AND HOPS FOR WHICH
HAMPSHIRE IS WELL KNOWN.
THEIR CULTURE AND LANGUAGE
HAVE FILTERED ITS WAY INTO
THOSE SAME TOWNS OF THE
COUNTY. IT IS AN INJUSTICE TO
THEM FOR THEIR CONTRIBUTIONS
TO GO UNNOTICED. LONG GONE
ARE THE DAYS WHERE THE
ROMANI WOULD HAVE THEIR
RIGHTFUL RULE THE FOREST,
DERACINATION HAS COME FOR
MANY THAT PRACTISED THAT
WAY OF LIFE.

I WILL ENDEAVOUR TO KEEP
ALIVE SO MANY MEMORIES
OF THE FORGOTTEN,
WITH CUSTOMS, BELIEFS,
SUPERSTITIONS AND RHYMES
FLOATING THROUGH MY
CONSCIOUSNESS. SOMEWHERE
BETWEEN THE PALE SKIES IN THE
MORNING AND THE INK DRAWN
ONES AT NIGHT, MY SOUL IS
PREOCCUPIED WITH PROMISES
I DON'T KNOW HOW TO KEEP.
LIVING IN THE SHADOWS OF
PEOPLE WHO HAVE PUSHED ME
TO DO BETTER, KNOWING THAT
IF I MOVE INTO THE DIFFERENT,
I CANNOT GO BACK TO THE
PLACE I LEFT.

HOW DO YOU NEGOTIATE THE
SPACE CREATED FOR YOU AND
THE AREA YOU WANT TO FILL,
KNOWING YOU CANNOT OCCUPY
BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. THE
UNDENIABLE FOOTHOLD THE
CITIES HAVE, FILLED WITH
OPPORTUNITY THAT HOME
LACKS. ALTHOUGH, I HAVE BEEN
IN MANY STREETS BUILT BY
CONCRETE, WITH A SINGLE TREE
TO OFFSET THE GREY, IT HOLDS
NO CANDLE TO THE VERDANT
FIELDS THAT ROAM THROUGHOUT
MY HOMETOWN.

I COULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS
BOOK A THOUSAND DIFFERENT
WAYS, WHICH WOULD ALL
CONCLUDE IN THE SAME VEIN. I
AM A LITTLE LOST, DISPLACED
THROUGH NOTHING BUT TIME
AND THE MISGUIDED TAUGHT
PERCEPTIONS THAT THE
COMMUNITY I GREW UP WITH
IS NOT PRESENTABLE FOR ANY
STAGE OUTSIDE MY HOME.

THE LIES WE TELL OURSELF,
THAT TO ASSIMILATE WE HAVE
TO CUT OFF LITTLE PIECES OF
OUR HEARTS. TO ARRIVE IN A
PLACE WITH NO EXPLANATION
AS TO HOW WE ARE MOULDED.
I AM THE PRODUCT OF
EVERYTHING THAT HAS PASSED
THROUGH MY FAMILY FOR BETTER
OR WORSE; I AM THE RESULT
OF EVERY STORY PEOPLE TELL
AND THE ONES THEY DON'T. THE
FADED FACES FROM PHOTOS
STILL KEPT IN MY MEMORY BOX
HAVE ALL CONSTRUCTED ME
WHETHER I KNOW OF THEM
OR NOT. HISTORY IS BUT A
FIXED POINT IN TIME WHETHER I
TAKE CARE TO NOTICE, IT WILL
ALWAYS BE IN THE SHADOW OF
THE WORLD I BUILD FOR MYSELF.