What is this strange attitude that runs through the British population? A twine that binds each citizen with a sense of unfounded urgency. Strangers trotting about town, frowning at their shoes, shoulders broad, pushing through the crowds alone among many. Grimacing faces rushing up and down escalators. Where are you going so fast? I’ll see you at the tube platform when I eventually get there. Your rushing achieved nothing. Do you have somewhere to be? Is it somewhere important? Do you search for a life just out of reach but fail to enjoy the one within your grasp? Why go through existence in this haste, with this frustration? Breathe. Let go. Find solace in now. You’ve missed that tube, but another rumbles but moments behind it. Do you not feel the bitter air that precedes it, blowing at your back. Stop a moment. Why push your way to be first onto the train and then frown like you don’t want to be there? Does the fluorescent flicker of the lighting gnaw at your soul, or is your anger feeding a cancer to do the job? The shine on your shoes shows a smile on your face, but it is merely a fun house mirror of leather and wax. Quick! Jump up to the doors; they will open any moment. Mind the gap. Bump past elbows as you power up the moving stairway only to wait in line at the exit. I stand behind you, patient, and watch. Your Oyster card itches to beep you through the gates. Hands. Thick, purple veins. Your stride pushes you forward. Outside now. The sky is brilliant blue, the sun shines down with glory, but you don’t see it. Your next step is all that is on your mind. Step forward and stride. Stride, stride, stride. Cheap plastic souls beating the pavement. Where are you going to? I stop and watch and gather the sun you’ve forgotten and left sparkling behind you. Do you have somewhere to be? I’ve found where that place is. It lays tossed in the wake of the life that you’re rushing through, going nowhere.
No, I understand the urgency of moving from place to place. Move quickly from point A to point B. Stake out a waiting spot at point B. Relax. It’s when you’re in transit that you’re forced to deal with the idiocy of the humanity around you (HAI GUIZ LETS WALK SIX ABREAST DOWN SIDEWALK SO NO WUN KAN GET PAZT HUR). Idiocy breaks on a static person like water on the rocks.
March 20th, 2009 at 12:04 amJl and PMcA recognised it in ‘Nowhere Man’ and “Digging a Hole”
March 20th, 2009 at 10:34 amabit of a down post. Chuck in some happy werds everyone once in a while… like rainbow and pony.
March 20th, 2009 at 7:32 pmI meant to say: “Fixing a hole” !!!!
March 21st, 2009 at 12:00 pmthat was you a few months ago Simulator, you have to get out of the race to watch it
March 23rd, 2009 at 4:54 pm