Oh London Town.

It starts as something innocent, perhaps two people walking in opposing directions happen to collide because neither of them were aware of the other, perhaps neither will apologise, perhaps one will, perhaps one will consider themselves important and demand a fight, because that’s just a logical way to solve such matters.

Perhaps they’re in a car, and cars behind them are beeping their horns because much like the car in front, they have somewhere to be, only quite obviously they need to get there quicker because their time management capabilities are lacking, despite what they may have put down on their application letter to the local super market.

Perhaps they were driving too fast behind a bus that had to stop to collect passengers stood in the rain, perhaps they’ll beep their horns again to note the absolute shock and horror of a bus having the audacity to stop, at a bus stop. Perhaps then, they’ll speed off in a huff, only to stop seconds later at a traffic light and demand that it change colour immediately, before the bus arrives behind them. Perhaps it already did.

Perhaps they’re on the bus and the oyster card swipe didn’t quite register, but they’ll get on anyway because of how outraged they are at the cost of public transport constantly growing because people often cheat the system and don’t, in-fact, pay to use it. Perhaps they’ll then sit down directly behind you and cough into your neck for the next 20 minutes.

Perhaps the bus you’re on overtakes the bus you could have been on if you were 6 minutes earlier, perhaps you begin to wonder how broken the system is and perhaps you also wonder why nobody does anything to fix it, perhaps people are trying to fix it, perhaps they’ll go on strike again to really get things done. Perhaps this broken system is the only one that can feasibly operate? Perhaps you had been 6 minutes earlier and are now being overtaken by the bus you could have got if you were 6 minutes late, perhaps that’s ironic.

Perhaps you’re stood around waiting for something and somebody walks up to you to ask for directions, perhaps you could help them with that GPS device you carry around to send hilarious texts with, but perhaps that was the plan all along and so you shrug to announce yourself as being utterly useless in that situation, for fear of losing your pocket watch to a man who apparently isn’t sure where things are.

Perhaps they just want to buy a cigarette though, and you check behind you to see if you can see the counter of spirits and tobacco that they clearly imagine, perhaps they’re just confused, and doing it wrong. Perhaps you tell them about the shop across the street that does indeed exchange goods for money, perhaps, though… perhaps they weren’t actually willing to part with anything at all.

Perhaps you’re on the tube and you see from a distance, a dirty man moving down the carriage and asking people for spare change, perhaps you begin to laugh at the notion of “spare” money, perhaps it’s your turn to listen to the man’s story, about how it’s his birthday, and how he lost his wife, job and dog, perhaps you tell him to get to the god damn point because you’re sick of him breathing all over you, perhaps this angers him, and perhaps you give him your wanted money to shut him up. Perhaps he won.

Perhaps this is just pure cynicism, perhaps there is a silver lining to the polluted cloud that overhangs this angry city, perhaps that metaphor actually means something to someone, perhaps The Metro decide to publish something that isn’t depressing as shit, perhaps that doesn’t put a downer on peoples days, perhaps they don’t get angry so easily, perhaps they won’t bump into each other while reading about another policeman jailed for rape and murder, perhaps I’ll somehow get locked in a room with Cheryl Cole and tell her a joke so crazy funny that she falls in love with me… oh, hang on. Perhaps talk of positivity is gibberish.

… I’d happily settle for Kate Beckinsale instead?

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