It was Over. Before it was Hung

Friday nights can be fun sometimes. Until you do like me and put pressure on them, pressure to have fun. Have you ever noticed when you go out looking for fun you never really find it? I have, and trust me its not fun. It was more fun writing the poem about it. Is that sad? Probably but lets not get into that right now.

It was Over. Before it was Hung

Its Friday and night

My lips are tainted with white

Others have gone red

The smart ones are not tainted at all.

Fun? What is fun?

Is this fun?

Being with strangers?

Looking for a chair?

Chairs are comfortable.

When you sit, you feel that weight off your feet.

That pressure, gone

You can relax

I can relax.

I arrive late to the parties

Always standing, never sitting.

I am told standing is fun.

Really? Fun? Is this fun.

My legs are tired, I need a break.

A break, yes, a break. I see a chair.

An empty chair.

I see it.

Does he?

The quiet was deafening.

Even when there’s sound

I could here the silent undertone.

Tainted with white, my cheeks like rosé

Looking back now was it even worth it?

What it even fun?

With lips like this, I can no longer see

The loudness of others can be more deafening than the silence.

The wonder of what you see and don’t see is blinding

Bubbles are easily broken. Broken in the wrong way

Untainted is dawn.

The Chair? What chair?

Like the desert, tainted lips play tricks on you

The chair was no longer there

To try and sit, would to be look like a fool

There was no chair

There is never a chair.

The hardest time, is in the morning.

You wake with all your sense. Knowing

Time moves forward, you can never go back

Head flaming with the regretful thoughts

You now have a choice

Give up and die before trying.

Or

Realise that this is life.

Mistakes are made

Get that voice out of your head telling you, you cant

And stand.

Stand proud.

Stand hopeful.

Stand smiling

Stand.

May 16: Best Friends Forever Part 2

Each year I think about this stuff, losing Daniel, friendship, relationships. Sometime I write these thoughts down. Seven months after Daniel died I wrote the piece below. It was nice to read and realise how much I had changed. I hope in another seven years I can say the same.

“I am a boy in the school of many but yet none. Well that’s at least how I am feeling. There is always a cliché that those who are popular, in fact actually have no friends. They are in fact surrounded by people who think they must be liked not because they are friends. Anyhow that, as far as I know, only happens on TV on shows like Buffy. I am different though, I guess if I am honest I live in a TV show or my at least me alter ego does, my wants and hopes all in a TV show as they could never come true. Most would say I have had a happy life, some could even be jealous, but yet another saying; you always want what you don’t have.

At one point in my life I was very happy, I think anyway. I think I was happy because though I thought I was alone, I never was. I always had a friend. A friend I went everywhere with; shopping, cinema, park, the bus journey (you wouldn’t get that it was a personal joke between me and him.) We were friends that every week when we did something new or old we got closer. I think the reason I was so close to him was that he was the one to say it first. It made me feel wanted which I never feel now or had done before. It was a phone call, we were talking about a teacher, Ms Rucco or something, we always joke about her and her obsession with Bin Laden and Afghanistan. Anyhow he was telling me how he was talking to some people telling them that his best friend wasn’t in his year. Basically, he was referring to me. Which took me a while to get the grips with because I was, ok still am quite slow.

When he said that to me I felt so happy, he said it first not me I have said it to so many people before and the feeling wasn’t mutual that’s why it was so special our friendship or at least to me anyway . So I said he was my best friend too. And life carried on as usual. He taught me so much about collecting stuff, Buffy, Style, Room Decoration, Getting to Lakeside (shopping centre), he had a big effect on my life.

Then kind of out of the blue he gets sick, cancer of the blood; Leukaemia. When he told me, my reaction was “oh,” and I just felt nothing, not sad, not angry, not happy just normal. I treated it like he said he had got a cold. I feel so stupid now seeing that he’s dead. Anyway so yea, I feeling normal, mostly because he acted normal, didn’t speak to me differently or sound scared, just normal. So months go past and he starts to get better and I feel like finally I will have him back, things will be as they were. But boom on the May 14^th, a Wednesday, I was on study leave for my GCSEs my dad tells me he has a couple of days to live and I stop feeling normal, I was shocked, oh and that shock turned into crying none stop for about an hour.

I was going to see him on a Saturday but he dies on the Friday. I was fine on Friday, on study leave playing my Playstaion, obliviously, and I get a call from my teacher Miss Eagle was her name and she said she was very sorry to hear the news, I thought oh these teachers can gossip. On the Thursday me and my dad went to school to collect some of his art work to give to his parents and told the art teachers the situation. I assumed Miss Eagle was talking about the fact that he had a couple of days to live. But then I said of thanks Miss I going to see him on Saturday. And she said oh at the chapel of rest. And I was like in a gasping for breathe voice are you saying he’s dead, she then realised that I didn’t know and covered it up. I then thought that’s stupid and I phone my mum she was not there the guy on the phone sounding like, don’t worry she will be there soon, I see her and a women coming, I release but don’t believe, mum comes in, I say, he’s dead isn’t he we both breakdown into tears for a while but that was it, no more did I cry not at the funeral or when I told people or when I spoke about him. Why? People told me which I thought was very patronising “people deal with grief in there own ways” and here’s another classic “what would Daniel want you to do.” Now it would be fine if that line came from someone who actually knew him but hello, did you know him? No. Then how would you know what he would want me to do or not?  Then there was the whole “get on with your exams, he would want you to do well.” Oh I am mistaken, didn’t I just lose my best friend, and you expect me to do my exams and with such a confidence boaster like Daniel would want you to do well. Well I did the exam without much revision because to be honest, I really just couldn’t be bother. But I wasn’t feeling sad, it was like the feelings had just gone, and I was like, I lost my best friend and I am not showing or even feeling pain. I was laughing and joking with my friends most didn’t know that he had died and treated me normally, thank God. Those that did, most were ok. One was annoying and was saying all the clichés, totally pissing me off. Another was fine always made me feel better.

Whilst I was like this my mum told me, “I can see you are feeling sad, you just cant.” And I was like, “OK, that’s right you can clearly feel my feeling more than me,” leading to arguments. So she sent me to America for three weeks, which went terrible, I didn’t stop thinking about Daniel. I did, however, have an interesting dream of him telling me that he was ok. Whilst there I was lonely felt like there was no one there for me at all just couldn’t wait to get home. At home I still felt lonely, empty. I was morning Daniel not being here, I was upset that he left me, I was so alone, my friends seem like they didn’t even care, they thought I was fine. It didn’t help that I was hiding my sadness anytime I saw them. But yes, I was surrounded be people yet I felt so alone, I so get Lucas’s art piece in year 11 now, that’s so weird. Anyhow I basically hated every single friend I had. They didn’t see that all I wanted was for someone to be there.

But I was wrong then, I now release that they were there. I just wanted him, Daniel, to come back and that’s the same now. I am depressed, sad, sick, tired and have no idea what is going on in my head and I thought when I started sixth form, I thought the sadness and the loneliness had gone. I felt I was getting close to people, friends again, I felt better, I thought I was over the death but I wasn’t, I’m not. I oppressed it, I closed it in so I wouldn’t feel the pain but a week ago on 16^th of January, I felt the feelings I felt in the summer. This was when it seemed a friend on mine, who I thought I was getting close to, she pick someone else over me. It reminded me of what used to happen before Daniel and now again its happening. God I swear she hates me, I’ve been talking so much crap to her. Anyway when that happened, I realised I still am hurting, even more so now as it out and wont go. The phone calls are not Daniels and the cinema, the shopping, the jokes, none of it is him. I just want him; he would know how to make me feel better. He wouldn’t let me down. No one is him; no one is like him apart him who left me. I don’t know, do I miss him or am I confused like with everything else in my life. God I am getting to paranoid.”

Dedicated to my best friend Daniel

Forever remembered

Forever loved

Forever friends

May 16: Best Friends Forever Part 1

Friendship. I don’t know about you but I find a lot of people throw the word ‘friend’ around. After a night of talking and drinking together you become ‘best mates’. You both know neither of you have even touched the iceberg. What you’ve told, what you’ve heard you know its something, but its nothing. But you go with it, you say, this is my new best friend. I am not going to sit here and pretend like I don’t get that its just a word but I guess what’s interesting is that very few, if any, would do the same with the word ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’. Now I sure you’re thinking “well of course not, that’s different,” and your right, it is, very different. But I guess that’s the sad truth. People, Friends, Humans, even though some of us don’t like to admit it. When it comes down to it we put our partners or potential partners above our friends.

Maybe I am crazy for even thinking this. But I have my reasons. Today is May 16. Eight years ago my best friend died. To use the word best friend doesn’t seem fair, because when he died, he didn’t just die and leave. A huge piece of me died with him. I looked up to him; he was like my older brother. We would speak on the phone for on average 4 hours a night. We did everything together and never got bored. And when I lost that connection, it took me a really long time to realise, and accept that that hole, that that hole he left, is never going to completely go away. It’s never going to be filled. Not to say I didn’t try. 

As stupid as it may sound I tried to replace him. No, not him, but that connection. And as you could aspect those people run a mile. Giving me a complex of being constantly left or abandoned by anyone I get close to – but that’s another subject.

Years on and I’m different. I read a piece of work I did 7 months after Daniel died. And I recognised some of the feelings but I am not defined by them anymore. And I think that that, shows progress, *smile*. A lot of youngster loose people close to them. You’re just lucky if you haven’t. Whether it be a friend, a partner, a child, a parent, a sibling, a pet. Its loss, you mourn. A piece of you will always stay broken. It just takes time to realise you can live life a little broken. At least that’s what I think. Its unfortunate, but we rank relationships. And in a way, told how you should feel depended on the one you lost. I never had a pet. I been told a dog, a cat is like a member of the family. I’m not saying that we should go around comparing animals dying to children dying. But I think we should recognise that pain is pain, lost is lost; emptiness is emptiness.

Why do I say this? My sister questioned whether Daniel was my boyfriend. If he had of been, it would justify why I was so sad, according to her. Did some people think I was making a mountain over a molehill? I think so. Four months after Daniel died, a friend of friends’ boyfriend died. Was she treated different? Were people more accepting of her sadness? Did they empathies more? To completely honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to other people. I was busy mourning to notice if they did. But I do think about it now. And I think they probably did. Maybe I am crazy. But there is was this one time which I think proves my point. Now I am notoriously known for my strong dislike towards couples. I won’t bore you with the details why, but your friends coupling off and being replaced by the ‘boyfriend’ can make a man very bitter. Anyhow I was at the pub with some friends and a new person, complaining about couples and the guy ask why I hated couples? My deeply regretted answer, “my boyfriend died of cancer when I was 15.” His face, God I remember it so clearly. It was different. So different. It was, like wow, shit. Really. I’m sorry. Even so it wasn’t worth it though. The friend of the friend, that did loose the boyfriend. We became very good friends. In fact it took several years and a lot of back and forthing but she’s my best friend too. So you can image how cheap I felt and I am really sorry for doing that. But you know what’s worst. I don’t think it wrong. We put romantic relationships above friendships for a reason, and I get why. We can say one its not higher than the other, they’re just different. But when it comes down to it, in burning building? Which one of are you going to save. Spouse or friend?

Why is it so hard for people to just admit it? We dream of a perfect partner. A lot of people say they want to fall in love with there best friend. Turning a friendship into a relationship has big risk because it also has a big pay out. A friend, isn’t it just a romantic relationship without the sex? So add the sex, an act that brings people even closer. Why wouldn’t you put that on top? You have ice cream. Then someone’s offering ice cream with sprinkles and whip cream and a cherry on top. Assuming you like any of those things you are probably going to pick the second. In fairness you are going to get sick of having whip cream, and sprinkles, so some days may just have the ice cream. And some people prefer to spend more of their time eating ice cream. But they still go out looking for whip cream. Does anyone think just ice cream is enough? My answer, no.

But at 15, for me, it was. And that’s why it was hard. Even now, I’m still sad, but it’s strange I’m not sad that he was taken, I’m sad that he’s gone. You have those friends that you’ve known since school. It doesn’t really mean much. Not until you can’t say it anymore. I mean I get curious, would he like the friends I have now? As a youngster he was really in to Buffy. Would he watch True Blood now? Would we have much in common? Would we still be friends? It’s the endless possibilities that I find myself morning sometimes. Questions I will never know the answers to.

Even though I know when people die we put them on pedestals, I know mine and Daniel’s friendship wasn’t perfect and I know that it had less complications because we were so young and I was yet to be issuefied. But even so, he was the first person to except me for who I was, every single crazy quirk, bad joke, disgusting habit and kind gesture. You were my soul mate. So for that dude I want to say thank you. I love you and will always miss you. I hope the angels are treating you well. But don’t forget, no one can replace the fun we had.

Dedicated to my best friend Daniel

Forever remembered

Forever loved

Forever friends

Chivalry is dead

Journeying around London, whether it be for personal or work related reasons, gives me a lot of time to think. As noisy as the train’s engines may be and no matter how many bodies are inside, a London train carriage is dead. With silence like that, who wouldn’t be inspired? 

Today’s topic, Chivalry. Below are my thoughts. 

“Right now when I write this I sit on the London Overground heading to Stratford. In the six seats that surround me (including mine) 4 women are sitting. And one little girl is standing, yes who can stay standing as she young. And not because she's got younger legs than me but because if chivalry is proportional to time. When she's 40 men will be using her as a seat.   

Action: woman comes near my seat.
Reaction: I ask if she wants to sit.
Her reaction: politely says no.   

Chivalry is dead? Maybe. But more importantly do woman want chivalrous men?    

As a gay man I fulfill a lot of stereotypes. One being I have a lot of female friends. Can I just put it out there that I'm sorry guys. Your fucked. Woman or a least the ones I know are crazy. But I give you hope. They know it's crazy. No that's wrong, some know they are crazy and what they are looking for is that person who makes it ok to be crazy so they can stop feeling crazy. I know it's crazy. Respect to anyone who followed that.  

The point is, chivalry; I think firstly it depends on the woman but mostly woman want chivalrous guys when they want them and but my god when they want to pay half, let em.
 
To my fellow men, I wish you luck.
Me. I'm just happy to be gay. And if I'm honest, I would be the crazy one. But we all knew that!”

Fighting? Loving? Dying? …

An interesting conversation at work today about Rihanna’s songs, song lyrics and interests inspired this post. I would like to point out this is a creative fictitious piece.

"It’s Hard. Being around him

He infuriates me, he makes me sweat

It's been like this, ever since we met

He makes me wait

I sit here waiting, waiting for the right time.

Waiting to get what I want

What I've wanted, since we met

Late at night, in the ally

I get him from behind

There will pain

After all, after that whack

His head is inflamed

There we are in this ally

Causing a small fire

Standing there

One over the other

United in despair.

Him on the floor

Catching his breath

After the pounding

His head was sore but

There is no blood

I always had a weak punch

It was unfair to take him like that

But soon he got me back

With his devilish smile, I could see

He had a trick up his sleeve.

Suddenly before I could stop him

My head was wrapped in silk

His hand reaching for my neck

Holding it tight

I stand there gasping,  short of breath

And that was it.

I was heading for the light

Then it was over

And all I saw was white..."

 

Fighting? Or Loving?

Dying? Or …

Michel

In your life you have people that you just click with. Since a teenager I noticed I didn’t “click” with many people. I was different. You wouldn’t aspect that, being a gay guy in an all boys catholic school. But I was. I had an imagination that only very few could keep up with. I had a sense of humour so strange that everyone thought I was either an idiot or a freak. So back then when I did meet someone that I “clicked” with, I suffocated them. Yes, I was that Kid. That needy Kid that just wanted to make a connection with someone that didn’t either end with them, moving, leaving or dying. Sad? Totally. Understandable? I’ll let you decide.

Years on and I am in my 20s. And the friends I hold close are my brothers and sisters. They are my family. But sometimes I still feel like there is something missing, That even though my family are always close by or a phone call away, I am still very different from all of them. And I love that, I love that I am described as the strange one, quirky. “Special”. But even so, it’s lonely. It’s hard to stand alone and debate with a crowd of ten. I am but one man.

But then there’s Michelle. When I am with her I am reminded that there are only a finite about the personalities, traits and opinions in the world. She reminds me that I am not one of a kind. She fills a little bit of that hole he left behind. 

There are people in my life that I know that I was destined to meet. And sometimes when you meet these people you instantly connect; the conversation is following, you’re laughing at the right times, their laughing and the right times and then they don’t call. Hold up back up. Sorry, side issue, will get to that another time. My point is, Michel and I, we weren't these people. The ones that instantly connect.

Michel and I met when we were doing our Post Graduate Diploma in Event Management & PR. Sounds fancy? Trust me it's wasn’t. If you were a monkey that could pay the fees you could do it too. Anyhow, Michel likes to remind me about when we first met. I don’t blame her, it is after all one of the only times she comes off as the good one.

My recollection. I was there at lunch, listening to our "lecturer", engrossed in what he was saying. Hanging off every single one of his words like a little puppy. That is until Michel, rudely interrupts, asking if I wanted to go for a cig. After seeing a gestured polite no from me, Michel left the building. 

Michel's version of events. And I am ashamed to say the more accurate of the two. "No Mikey, you were there, eating the "lecturers" arse for your lunch and I was walking out when you looked at me and I asked, without sound, if you wanted to go for a cig. You then shooed, yes shooed me away with you hands. So I left.” 

Well after that terrible display on my part you may wonder how Michel and I are twins from different eggs. Simple really. Nicotine and a lot bitching is a great relationship builder. Soon we realised we had a lot in common, including both of us being dyslexic, a love for wine and a mutual hatred for stupid people. 

But in all honesty, it was a night out that did it. We had been on the course for about a month or so and a group of us went drinking. One by one they drop like flies, leaving Michel and I alone to finish what I remember to be the third or forth bottle of rosé. And we talked. I talked. She talked. I listened. She listened. We were Cadbury Cream Eggs. Hard Shells with a gooey inside. 

That night, on the Hammersmith and City train home I knew she would be standing up there with me when I get married. A year later I realised that was because we became each other's back ups. Which works out fine for me. Michel hun, you carry the 5 kids, and then I will take care on the rest. What! No Michel, I love you but no. We will use a turkey baster.  

Oh my God Michel, you could look a little more disappointed by that. I mean come on. It’s me. I could be straight. 

*Chuckle* 

See told you, I am funny 

Dedicated to the girl I believe personifies London, my friend. You know who you are.

Honesty: The best policy?

Trust. Loyalty. And honesty. These are the qualities that I value most. I am the kind of person that can forgive anything. That is, unless you lie to me. If you lie to me you lose my trust and if there’s no trust. We're done. Or at least that’s what I would like to think. 

Then it hits you ... The situation. My friends and I always play this game -what would you do if... And you answer thinking you know yourself, inside and out. And I’m not saying when we played we were naive to think our answers wouldn’t change. Our answers. Yes. My values? No.
 
Friendship and honesty. Intertwined? Definitely. But what’s more important. The friendship. Or that lie told?   

I mean lets be honest here; It's hard, it's complicated. White lies, right lies, lies to protect, we all do them, even me, no; especially me. Hypercritical? I hate to admit it but yes. Oh my God, I can hear myself saying it now. "Kids, do as I say, not as I do." 

Don't get me wrong I try to be honest at all time, the nickname bitch has followed me for a reason after all. If anything, or so I have been told, I in fact need to learn to filter. But no, I do lie, I lie to make a story sound funnier, I have lied to make me sound better. And I have lied to “friends” I didn’t want to see. But I guess there a line, a line you don’t cross or in other words the people you don’t lie to. Is my list longer than others? Yes. How I feel about that? Ancient history. 
  
What I trying to say is; I hate to be lied to. But is there a point in hating if when it happens all I am going to forgive? It took some time to get there but yes, there is. Values and standards, they’re personal. They're not meant to be pushed onto others, especially friends.  

So, to maybe disappoint the cliché, I won’t be using this space to write the words I can't say aloud. Anything I say here, I would have already said or be willing to say outside of cyber space. I am going to keep the me in both places honest. Because that me. But I can’t speak for my friends, so respectfully all their names will be changed. 

I worried that I was losing my values, but I forget, trust. Loyalty. And honesty. These may be the qualities I value, but my friends; they are valuable. When you look at it like that. What can’t be forgiven?

    

A new hobby: People, traffic, crazy. London. Part 2

"Smoking

When did everyone stop smoking. My lungs are having trouble with the clean air.

Clean? Spoke too quickly – a bus just went past me.

So you know this is all the same day. I am not quite sad enough to go back, well, at least not yet.

Ok (6:20) and someone very interesting looking has just got out of a cab. I assume a photograph as she is holding a big ass camera. I should follow her. No I cant, that would be crazy. If no one sees the craziness, is it really crazy? Look, no one is watching you watch her so just follow her. I make a good point. She walks, I follow.

As I write, I am standing across the street watching her as she starts taking pictures of watch appears to be …. Two men outside a building. They starting talking. I can’t hear. Music off. I listen in. I still can't hear. Get closer? No way, even I have my limits. (Or do I?)

Ok they stop outside a building, pictures taken, posing. Gay couple? Maybe. Shit she looks at me. I look out her, she quickly looks away. She demonstrates the “quick judgment look” well.

I look at around, wedding venue? God I hope not.

Photo shoot? Definitely not – I have watched enough Ugly Betty to know that.

Oh, a third guy comes out – first thought, weird planned foursome. You may think that’s some lucky lady. Trust me you would be wrong. Thoughts on first thought? Terrible.

Should I ask what they’re doing? Ok … Going in …

(6:35) Ok walking away from the scene and apparently I look like a tourist. Normally I would be insulted but it’s better than being thought off as a stalker. I could not ask what they were doing but asked for directions to Tottenham Court Road.

Meeting with Michel at 7 so still got time. What to do?

Standing at Oxford Street Station (6:40)

Not that rush was the hour but

More of the same

This time though

There are people waiting on the outskirts

Unlike me they were keeping themselves in their bubble

Not exploring other peoples.

Invasive I know

Not a big deal to see them waiting

It is a place to meet people.

Ok they are three POI (people of interest) waiting.

Grey T-shirt, sunglasses dude and fuck she’s gone already. Dame it!

Well that game was long lived

Hehehe … I am so in the way. I love it.

I am that guy that won’t move,

That obstacle that keeps you from getting to where you want to be

It’s weirdly empowering. Yea bitches, move around me,

Yea that’s it, you move around.

Fuck me, just noticed, even as an obstacle people still aren’t looking at me

They on auto pilot

It’s like I am a road sign. Empowerment lost.

There’s no eye contact in London. Londoners hate exposing their souls

Spotted a few feet away

A man gets irritated at woman with a wheelie case.

And eye contact was made – Hooray!

Note to self bring a wheelie case next time.

And I am on a role, Eye contact made with me.

Ok it was a policeman, probably wondering what the hell I am doing but

Beggars can not be choosers in this day and age.

Am I happy it happened?

Yes

That it was with him?

No

Because he was a policeman?

No

Because of what he look like?

Yes

Michel should be coming this way.

Will she spot me? Or

Will she not even look up as in theory we are not suppose to be meeting here.

Ok random spotting …. Carmen, yes its Carmen. A friend of a friend of my cousin, who is now a friend of mine. But she noticed me and came over. And even better, She’s someone I don’t mind seeing in London. We had a chat and decided we should meet up again soon.

Unlike a lot of these I do I hope this one happens. J

OK (7:05) I spot Michel. Will she see me?

And its confirmed Michel is a Londoner She walked right past me.

Surprised? Not really its Michel, she personifies London, it’s why we are friends.

Got to go eat. Laters”

A new hobby: People, traffic, crazy. London. Part 1

While waiting to meet a friend, I decided to use the 2 hours to explore London a bit. I don't know why but I just felt drawn to wondering. Plus all the coffee shops were full. I eventually hit Oxford street at a cross roads. Not a major one but busy. It was five and people were on their way home. Then something amazing happened. I stopped and watched. It’s bizarre that I have never thought of doing this before as one of my favourite pass times is watching people. My motto, in fact is, it's what people don't tell/show you is what you should be listening/watching. Trust me, it may sound crazy but everyone does it. They just don't stop to think about it. But me, I am sad enough to do it for two hours. Judge away, I don't care. It was fun! 

I have a habit of doing this to in my everyday life. With new people, old friends, family I wish I didn't have to speak to and most interestingly enough, new friend's and family member’s partners. Ok, you could call me the judgenator (Judge-gen-nate-tor) . But it's not judgement; it's simply figuring out who they are. Surprisingly, cough cough, I’m really good at it. Which is why I think I am now the very first or very last to meet said new partners. How do I feel about this? Undecided.

But "on a London corner" was different to my normal "reading". I was reading and admiring the forrest rather than the tree. Something that is estranged from me. I am normally always about the detail. But whatever it was, it inspired me. I go out my pad and I started writing a peon which turned into long tweets which turned into a commentary which turned into this blog. So thanks London, I hope you enjoy. 

“London is said to be cosmopolitan, yet all I see are many shades of the same colour.

 When they cross, they cross one then the other.

Only a few are different.

Only few stand out from the crowd.

No one looks up

No one cares. People and buses in their own world.

Few heads even turn when the siren goes.

What is London? Every one is in their own London

They just head straight

They just keep walking

No one is different in London.

What are the wars about?

If you stood where I stand now

You would see we all just walk the same.

I stand here watching, not even seen

Am I a terrorist, making notes at the scene.

Am I plotting against London.

Who knows?

They do not even ask the question.

My question

Do they even want to know?

Who knows?

Emotionless all around

No one enjoying the journey

Just thinking about the destination

Is this London or just us humans?

I walked to a side street

Phones and London

Why have hands free if you are going to hold the phone.

This seems pointless to me

Side roads. Quiet

The path taken by the few

The ones with the courage not to follow the crowd

And weirdly seem happier

No one watches, even here.

Everyone is so quick to judge with a single glance. But if you

Stop to look, you’ll see we are all the same.

All trying to get somewhere. All forgetting that the journey can be fun.

The one that is running is looked at strangely.

But he will get there first.

I see frowns at the people eating,

Like they have never ate before.

I see a model eating a cheese burger.

Fuck me, where does she put it.

I hate her. Bitch

Are

We all so self obsesses?

Why can’t we stop?

Even for just a second.

 Everyone has that look … just like me.

One foot in front of the other. Keep walking.

And. Eventually you’ll get there.

But strangely this doesn’t make me feel better.

Shock on my face. I see someone smile, no not smile, laughing, yes they are laughing … Oh and they take a picture. Shock over. They’re not Londoners, just visitors.

People that laugh in London. Tourist?

Guessing by the clothes and smiles at this time of day (6:15pm), yea they’re tourists.

Welcome, please don’t stay too long, the cold London blood has not hit you yet. But stay long enough and it will."