Looking for change
London’s a strange beast. As we wandered through Westminster today (our first visit for weeks and weeks, in a failed attempt at birthday celebration), dodging the tourists, the street artists, the smells and the smokers it was painfully apparent that we no longer belong here.
I’ve lived in this city for almost nine years now and rather than growing to love it I see it and its people for what they are more clearly every day. I feel a bit like Rufus Sewell in ‘Dark City’, slowly figuring out that something isn’t quite right and wanting to scream about it from the rooftops.
I know people live rich and fulfilled lives here. Do they live in ignorant bliss? Do they just use and abuse the place for their own needs? Who knows? All I know is that escape is coming, and the six hours between 12pm and 6pm did nothing but ram home my belief that I will be leaving behind nothing that I will miss. Absolutely nothing.
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