This feels more like London should feel. I’m in my bedroom as the light finally fades through the window. My friend is in the living room running a zoom session about looking after yourself and cosmic things. We went for a walk in the park earlier. For so many years this quirky flat has been a haven for lovely people. I enjoy sharing my space like this – I have loved the manner in which people in the past would move through here, sometimes leaving gifts, sometimes money… Regular visitors, emergency visitors, lodgers and dodgers. It was lively in here. I was thinking of installing a saloon door. Since this Covid, people just haven’t been pulled to London in the way they used to be. The city has been quieter and consequently this flat has been less of a hub.
My friend and I left for a walk this evening as my neighbour was returning home, and I felt the heat of her curiosity. “Who is this visitor?” We still have negotiations about indoor spaces. People have strong opinions about what is acceptable, above and beyond what is considered to be acceptable by the various idiots who find themselves having to make policy because they desperately wanted to make policy. Remember the kids in the playground who really wanted to make up adjustments to the rules for the games we played and somehow if they were allowed to would try to tweak the game in their favour? It’s a long-winded way of observing it. But I’m not constrained to a word count here, and honestly – look at these lawmakers! Sure, it is possible to be a politician because you care for the greater good. But every single one of these coked up dingleberries cares more about their bank account than anybody or anything. It’s hard to maintain faith in authority when there is no honour in them. Corruption drips down, and there’s something rotten in the state.
I’m gearing up for an early bed. Back on the workshop train tomorrow. Fundango. The darkness has fallen outside and somebody is playing a bad Abba cover on one of the party boats. I think my friend has finished her zoom session so I’m going into the kitchen to bang around pots and pans. She’s vegan and I went and ordered a discounted Hello-Fresh that’s all meat and cream. Hey ho. I’m not gonna let it go to waste…
My friend is running a guided meditation. Very bad music is thumping in from the party boat that seems to have decided to stop outside. “See yourself as your own reflection in the still waters” “MAMA MIA HERE I GO AGAIN.” Come the revolution it’ll be those DJs against the wall if I have any say in matter. Well… First it’ll be the obvious people. Then the DJs. But… I’ve got no faith in a revolution, because we all know who will rise to the top. The people who want power. And they are the only people who shouldn’t have it. How do we solve it? A lottery system? I don’t know. I’m not offering solutions here, just problems.
“I’ve finished!” shouts my friend. So I’m off to cook a chicken korma.
Done and now it’s bed and outside over the traffic noise two young men talk loudly on a riverside bench with alcohol. It’s not even that warm yet. But once again a familiar thing. London is waking up for summer. I’m off to sleep.