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Net Caught Mind Wanderings

Sunday, 10 January 2016

What's London Doing For Anybody Anyway?

I was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming feeling of hatred towards this city of London.

How dare it keep rising taxing, how dare they keep building unaffordable houses, how dare it increase transport fares, how dare it give us less for more, how dare it calling itself the place for Film and TV and yet provide no paying experience for those of us trying to break in. How dare it be so polluted, how dare it be so exposed, how dare it continue to keep making decisions that I have not agreed to? How dare London, and who gives it the right?

Oh wait. That would be us. The people that live here and continue to sit around complaining about how annoyed we are but doing nothing about. The people that sit in group shouting in agreement of our shared predicaments. The people that will bitch and whine and moan and yet the people whom after a fleeting glimpse of the London skyline, whom after a day roaming the maze like streets of Central London, will declare their undying love and devotion for the city of London. Who will vow never to stray from its toxic aired perimeter. Who will sit in groups shouting in agreement of how we want to live in the exclusive Zone One. Who will make the hour and a half commute to work five days a week, who will tolerate being packed like sardines onto the train. Who will do nothing to change the suffering norm as per the terms and conditions of our contract with our landlord Mr C. O. London.

I was you, I am you, I have had enough. There is no contract, there is no obligation, no loyalty no shackles that bind us. London is a place, is a place is a place. A place that people cometh and a place that people goeth, and goeth I shall. The illusions have been shattered, the rose coloured glasses have come off, I have picked the lock, swallowed the red pill and I am free. There is more outside of the M25, people have been living their for centuries, they have space, their air is clean and they have been laughing at us Londoners the way we laugh at them. We laugh at them for not being able to claim being a Londoner, and they shake their heads in pity that we wear that claim like a noose around our necks.

I am awake, I am unattached. I wan to live, breath and travel. I want to go to the furthest depths of the world, not to the furthest ends of the District Line. I want to be able to save the money I earn, not have it all go towards a mortgage for a diseased flat that allows me to boast to others that I live in Zone Two. I could pay less for more outside of London. I can claim Hertfordshire, or Bedfordshire, Manchester or Exeter. My friends and family may be here but they can also come there. There where there are new friends to be made, new places to explore, and trains that can take me back within the perimeter of the choking holds of London whenever I so wish.

A city is a city is a city, a person is a person is a person.

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